


Seven Little Ducks

by Basilintime



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst with a Happy Ending, Deadlights (IT), Domestic Violence mention, Drug use mention, Everyone's alive, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Poly Relationship, Suicide mention, Violence, Visions, hate crime mention, post-It 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2020-11-27 08:01:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 41,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20945015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basilintime/pseuds/Basilintime
Summary: It has been defeated. Eddie's recovering in the hospital and a surprise visitor comes to see the Losers at the townhouse.Richie worries that the things he saw while trapped in the deadlights may still come true. Bev and him make a promise to not let that happen.





	1. Mother Duck This Shit

Stanley Uris had taken his bath and he expected that would be the end of it. In the end when it had come time to face his fears, Stan had found his biggest one was death. Not his death, no, but being responsible for the deaths of his friends. In the end, he feared that his fears would get the best of him and that it would cost the rest of the Losers.

He wasn’t sure what he expected when he chose death. Quiet and silence and an end to everything was high on the list of possibilities. Perhaps it would be finding himself in Sheol with all the other dead. Maybe it would be like a long sleep until he faced some final judgement. Maybe that final judgement had already come to pass.

Stanley Uris went into death with a morbid sense of curiosity as far as what would meet him. What had greeted him instead had felt like an odd sort of teleportation; a shift in environment that occurred within the blink of an eye. He had gone from being in the bath with the water darkening and his warning scrawled on the wall in red to suddenly finding himself groggy and disoriented as he lay in a hospital bed.

There had been a lot of questions then. A lot of lying as well. Stan didn’t like lying, especially since it meant lying to Patty, but if he told them the real reason he had tried to kill himself, they would have committed him. In the end, he had blamed himself and the fact that he wasn’t able to give Patty a kid. He didn’t know what else to say and it wasn’t entirely a lie. It was a hidden half truth given the fact that his inability to have kids likely linked directly back to his childhood in Derry and the real thing he had been trying to escape.

It was to Derry that he went once he’d been released. It took some careful reassurances and explanations to Patty on why he felt the need to go. The assurance that he wouldn’t be gone long but that it would help him heal in the end. He didn’t want to worry her but Stan could only make one assumption on why he was still alive. The Losers had done it. They had finally defeated It.

Stan hadn’t needed to call and ask to find where they all were. He’d known they’d be at the townhouse just like he knew they’d still be there despite it being over. Patty had wanted to come with him but he told her it was better if she didn’t. That he would keep in touch and let her know he was safe but that he needed to do this on his own.

And now he stood at that door feeling nervous about knocking. Would they be mad at him for letting them down? Would Bill be disappointed? Stan had broken his promise, after all, and it was a pretty big promise to fucking break.

It took him a few moments before he raised his hand up to knock. It was a bit timid at first but then he knocked a little more firmly. It took a few moments but then Stan heard someone on the other side and the door swung open to reveal Richie standing there.

“Hey Richie.”

“Fuck me…” Richie muttered the words and slammed the door in his face. Stan stood frowning at the door for a long moment. Hesitated before knocking again to try and see if Richie would open up and at least give him a chance to explain himself. Maybe Rich hadn’t recognized him.

No, that wasn’t true. Bev had been right when they were kids. He’d grown up to look the same just older. Even after his stint in the hospital, looking thinner and paler than he had before, Stan knew he was very clearly that same kid from the 80’s.

“Richie? It’s me. Stan…Stanley Uris.” He knocked a third time as he called out just in case. The door was wrenched open for a second time unexpectedly and Richie was stared back at him with confusion. Stan gave him an expectant look, felt a little exasperated though he couldn’t blame Rich if he was upset.

“So, I’ve seen a lot of really weird shit lately. This really shouldn’t surprise me that much but you’re supposed to be fucking dead, Stanley.” Richie spoke at a fast pace, voice filled with a bit of nervous laughter as if he was doubting his sanity some. Stan winced just a little at the mention of his attempted death. He knew Patty had told the Losers that he was gone; she’d honestly believed he would be at that point and to explain to someone who seemed a complete stranger had been more than she would have been able to handle.

“Well, I’m glad to tell you, Rich, that the rumors of my death have been greatly exaggera-okay, this is happening.” Stanley was caught off guard when Richie pulled him in for a hug; tight and encompassing with a lingering scent of body odor that seemed to give such a full of a sense of loss that it made him reel. He found himself suddenly worried, scared that maybe there had been loss. That his return didn’t herald that another of their numbers had taken his place.

“Shit, you missed so much fucked up shit, man. There was this moment where we saw you but it was just your head. You sprouted spider legs and tried to make out with me. It was really fucking wild. I mean, it was terrible, it was a lot of fucking terrible shit. But we fucking killed It. We finally fucking killed the goddamn clown.”

Stan knew that the rambling was Richie’s attempt to redirect. It always had been, talking and making jokes to keep the focus off what was important. He could hear it in his voice, that sense that there was too much and Richie didn’t want to say it. Didn’t want to confront it. A slurry of words to beat back his emotions.

So, Stan held on to him in return. Squeezed him tight as if all the years between them didn’t exist. Held on as he felt his own equilibrium sway with the emotion of being back and being here; of that sense of guilt he hadn’t really been trying to ignore but that felt a bit rawer in the moment.

“It’s good to see you too, Richie.”

Richie pulled back from Stan and seemed to take a good look at him then. Take in the khakis and the cardigan with the bandages peeking out from beneath its sleeves. Stan knew he was probably a bit of a sight especially given every thing that had likely happened. Richie shook his head in seeming disbelief though and gave him one of those crooked smiles.

“Jesus, I didn’t think you could have managed to become even more of an old man but look at you.”

“And I didn’t expect you to smell like day old ass but, well, here we are.” Stan threw it right back at him and felt a bit of relief when he heard his laugh in response. Richie reached forward to pat him several times in the cheek as Stan tried to bat his hand away for a second; sobering up as he knew there was a lot they’d need to talk about. “I’m sorry that I let you all down. That I wasn’t here for you all.”

“Shit, you were here, man. No need to apologize.” Rich gave a shake of his head, pulled him in for another hug despite Stan’s protest though he didn’t really fight it that hard. Richie really did smell like ass though.

“Stanny?” Bev’s voice grabbed his attention as he looked over Richie’s shoulder and saw her standing there. Behind her were the others all looking on in disbelief as she moved forward to pull him away from Richie to wrap him up in a hug herself. “Oh my god, Stan. You’re here…”

“Sorry I’m late.” Stan felt a bit overwhelmed then, could feel the tears in his eyes that he tried to blink back. He met Bill’s gaze, the look of disbelief and hurt and maybe a little bit of anger though Stan couldn’t blame him for that. Couldn’t blame any of them for that.

He didn’t have time to contemplate it though as suddenly they were all on him. Stan should have felt like he was suffocating between them all but instead he felt something he hadn’t in a long time. Stan felt like he was home; like he was complete. Five pairs of arms wrapped tightly around him.

_Five?_

Stan pulled back feeling a small stir of that fear once more. Counted once again to make sure he was right that one of them was missing.

“Where’s Eddie?” He looked to Richie when he said it because he knew. He knew out of all of them Richie would always know precisely where Eddie was and that out of all of them Stan would be able to read the answer off him immediately. He saw a flicker of pain for a moment and felt like his worst dream had come true but then Richie had given him a sad sort of smile that didn’t seem as terribly full of loss as he would have expected.

“He’s at the hospital. He should be getting out in a couple days which, let me tell you, I think the doctors and nurses are all saying a fucking prayer for. I’m sure you can imagine just how insane he’s driving them all.”

Richie gave a soft shrug and that lingering unwashed scent made sense to Stan then. He would have been staying at Eddie’s side if he was hurt. Stan felt a bit like he should tell him that most mating rituals typically included taking care of yourself too but bit his tongue.

“We-We’ll take you to see him in the m-m-morning, Stan.” Bill patted him gently on the shoulder, hand lingering there for a bit in what Stan knew was a reassurance. Bill wasn’t mad at him; Bill was happy he had made it even if it was a day late and a dollar short. “I’m sure you’re tired from your tr-tr-trip. We’ve got a room you can use upstairs.”

*

It was late but that much didn’t matter much. Richie hadn’t exactly slept much anyway as he tried to juggle the increasing number of phone calls from his agent while hovering close by Eddie’s side while they waited for him to be released. Bev had dragged him back to the townhouse that night rather than let him stay with Eds. The group of them had ganged up on him and told him he needed rest and a heavily suggested shower.

They may have been right on the shower but Richie didn’t think he really could rest especially after Stanley had risen from the dead and shown up on their doorstep. Every time he tried, he found himself startled awake by the nightmares. The visions. The remnants of the deadlights that he’d only escaped by the grace of Eddie with a busted old fence post.

He had snuck back down stairs after lying there in the silence for a long while. The house was quiet around him but he knew had seen the light on near the end of the hall. The room Bill had been using and Richie had little doubt he was in there talking with Stan about the details of what had happened.

Richie had done his best to stealth down the hall so not to disturb them and he now sat in the kitchen feeling the fatigue pulling on him while still feeling wide awake at the same time as he slowly nursed a beer from the fridge. He had too much shit on his mind even without the fucking deadlight nightmares.

“Why are you up?” Bev’s voice came from behind him and Richie smiled a bit. She’d been checking on him a lot. Richie suspected that apart from Stan, she had known the longest. About him. About how he felt about Eddie. About a lot of things, truth be told, Bev and Stan had always been the ones who just seemed to know.

“Ah, you know, just burning some of that midnight oil.” Richie gave a shrug as he took another sip of his beer. Let the bitter test help wash down the lingering sense of guilt and fear. He had a feeling they were going to have one of _those_ conversation. A quiet conversation.

Richie wasn’t really fond of quiet conversations. He’d spent so much of his life living loudly in an attempt to hide away all the truths he’d not wanted to face. This was a conversation Richie wasn’t sure he could skip out of though. Not if he wanted to have some sort of peace of mind.

And if he was going to talk about the fucked up things he’d seen in the deadlights with anyone, Bev was the best choice. She’d understand. She knew what it was like, had seen the same things and lived with the nightmares even when none of them had remembered what the hell deadlights even were.

Bev opened the fridge to pull out a beer for herself before leaning against the kitchen island across from him. Richie offered her his bottle and they clinked them together lightly before both taking a sip.

“So…?” Bev raised an eyebrow at him and gave him one of those looks that meant she knew something was up and wasn’t going to budge until he told her. Richie ducked his head down a little so he could avoid her eyes while he tried to think. He really did hate facing this shit straight on.

He could see the bruises still on her wrists, had clocked them quickly when they’d all first gotten to Derry, violence she didn’t deserve. It was part of what had been keeping him up, the memory of violence, of different deaths that would have taken them all one by one.

“You think its all over? Like for real? No more It, no more loss, no more forgetting once we’ve all finally left this place?” There were some things Richie would be just fine forgetting but if it meant forgetting the Losers too…well, that wasn’t worth it. He hadn’t slept across two chairs for several nights in a hospital room next to Eddie just to forget about him again.

“I do. I think we kicked its ass and so we’re finally free.” Bev spoke gently, tugged at the sleeves of her sweatshirt that Richie was fairly positive belonged to Ben. “Do _you_ think its all over?”

Richie pursed his lips together for a second and then gave a soft laugh that didn’t sound all that humorous to him. That was the bitch of the situation. He wasn’t convinced it was over but he didn’t know what he was supposed to do about it. It had fucked with his head and then almost killed the guy he sorta secretly loved and Richie couldn’t shake that It wasn’t done with them yet even if It was gone. And he couldn’t shake it now, that lingering sense that something was still wrong. That there was still a course that could let It win in the end.

“How did you see Stan die? Like, exactly?” Bev gave him a troubled look as she pulled one of the stools over to finally sit down. She had apparently realized this was going to be one of those quiet conversations as well. Well, in for a penny, in for a fucking pound.

“You know how I saw it happen.” Bev spoke carefully as she shifted her weight up onto the stool. Richie knew she probably thought he was losing it but none of them could claim to be completely all together anymore.

“Yeah, I do. But the thing is I saw it differently. Like It knew Stan was still alive. I saw him lying there in the hospital just wasting away until they finally pulled the plug. He was the last of us still around and he knew that it had been all in vain cause we’d failed.”

“But Rich, honey, we didn’t fail. We beat It and Stan’s here now.” Bev dipped her head down in an attempt to catch his eyes and Richie glanced up at her. Her eyes were gentle but intense; she was a warrior as she always had been. How the hell some jack ass had believed for a second that he could keep her down was beyond him. Bev may have been made to forget just how strong she was but nothing could actually steal that strength away from her.

“Yeah, I know, it’s just…worried that it doesn’t change everything, ya know? Like, those possibilities are still out there. Sure, Stan managed to escape the course he was sent on but the rest of us haven’t faced that trial yet.”

“Then we’ll make sure we’re there for each other. We’ll make sure if those things come to pass that none of us are alone to face them. Okay?” Bev set her hand on top of Richie’s and he smiled a little; turned his palm upwards so that they each were gently gripping the other’s wrist. A silent promise. They were the two that knew so they’d do what they could to continue making sure everyone was safe.

“Yeah, we can mother duck this shit. I just…what if we forget again? I mean, shit, I’m not staying in Derry any longer than I absolutely have to no matter what but what if we forget again. We all go our separate ways, except for you and Mr. Hunk of the Month upstairs, and it just slips away again. And then we don’t know what to expect-“

“Beep beep, Richie.” Bev spoke quietly, set a hand on top of his in an attempt to calm him down and he pulled back so he could take a swing of his beer. She gave him the kind of look that was typically reserved for Eddie when he was lecturing on the likelihood of them getting tetanus from wandering around an old field barefoot.

True story. Apparently, the bacteria lives in the soil.

_ It doesn’t take a rusty nail to get tetanus, jackass_.

“You get the shit beat out of you. Tom just snaps, he’s an asshole by the way, I’m happy you’re not going back to him. Please don’t go anywhere near him ever again cause I just know he’s a grade A asshole. I don’t even have to meet the dumb ass. Bill drowns, some fucking how, that one was confusing because it was like a damn broke and he couldn’t get out of its way in time. And Eddie…Eddie…”

Richie squeezed his eyes shut tight, felt like it’d gotten to be a little too much. So much for avoiding the fucking visions by not sleeping. He apparently was intent on digging them up to the surface even when he was awake. He finished off the beer, drained it and immediately shifted to get up to grab another one.

“Eddie was the pills. Too many of them at once can make you think you’re sick and then he took more and more.” Richie paused as he heard Bev speak behind him; he stared into the fridge for a long moment feeling that sense of hopelessness trying to finger its way into his chest.

"Eddie was first.”

“Rich-“

“It _was_ the pills. Not getting killed by It. Too many goddamn pills. She had to keep him sick, you know, when it wasn’t enough just to _worry_ so goddamn much. Had to make him realize that he still needed her. Who was going to look after him? Look how sick you are, Eddie. Have some fucking tea, it will make you feel better. I’ll take care of you. You go off and almost die and now look at how sick you are, Eddie. Look-“

“Richie-“

“But it was too many fucking pills. Because when you’re trying to poison someone just enough there’s always that chance it will be too much. Too many, too high of a dose. He tried to leave one too many times and how dare we be trying to take him from her. And so, she added more pills. Added more until it was too much and-“The sob broke out of him, threatened to make this quiet conversation a little less private.

Bev was moving over to him, pulling him to her as she hugged him close and gave him a buffer so he could calm down without calling the entire fucking house down. Richie sucked in a few deep breathes of air, tried to force all that damn emotion back down. He wasn’t supposed to be the fragile one, he was supposed to be the funny one.

“You help all the guys muffle their crying with your rack, Bev, or am I just a special case?” It was a half-assed joke. Not his best. Still, he heard her exasperated laugh and she just hugged him even tighter and it was comforting. To be held. To have friends.

“You’re just special, Rich. These puppies are all for you.”

“Shit, it’s a shame I’m gay then.” It was the first time he’d actually said it out loud. He hadn’t even really meant to and part of him turned ice cold as he waited for some sort of response.

“Well, I’ve been told all the cute ones are.” It was soft, understanding and knowing. Bev had known. Shit, well, they probably all knew. Richie was starting to suspect that he hadn’t really hidden his feelings for Eddie as well as he thought he had. Granted, here he was breaking down into a sobbing mess at the thought that he may still end up losing him even after dragging his ass out of a collapsing hell hole.

“We’ll be on our guard, okay, Rich? We’ll mother duck this, like you said, and we’ll make damn sure that none of that happens, right?” Bev spoke quickly as she smoothed through his hair. Richie nodded because he wasn’t sure he could do much else at that point. “We’re going to be okay.”


	2. Knowing is Half the Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bev is leaving Tom. Despite his agreement to be gone so that she can go and collect a few of her things, the rest of the Losers insist on joining her. She doesn't argue the point much, not knowing what she knows. 
> 
> The deadlights showed both Richie and her that Tom would be her end and they aren't taking any chances.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter deals with Bev's relationship with Tom and, therefore, does mention some of the abuse he put her through and her reaction to his presence.

_Knowing is half the battle_. Why Bev still recalled that final phrase from an old G.I. Joe cartoon was beyond her. It had felt like a fitting phrase when they’d returned to Derry and they all suddenly remembered.

Beverly had remembered more though. She had remembered the possibilities.

She had thought one of those possibilities had already come to pass but then Stan had shown up at the door. Stan had already taken his bath and Bev’s heart had broken as she remembered that those nightmares that had haunted her over the years had been visions. Prophecies bestowed upon her by the deadlights.

But they had stopped it and, by doing so, those fates had been altered and derailed. Stan had returned to them and she had been relived, ecstatic even, because it meant it was really over.

But that had been before she had found herself standing in the townhouse kitchen holding onto Richie as he brought doubt crashing back around her. The fear that, despite everything, they’d still find their way back to those inevitable ends. A temporary detour but they’d reach those same destinations and suddenly the only one that seemed safe was Stan.

They had ended up comparing notes on what they had seen that night and Bev glanced down at that list now as she stood in one of Ben’s penthouses in New York waiting to go get the last of her important things from her old home. She felt her heart flutter at the sight of Tom’s name written on the sheet under how they'd both seen her die. She’d done her best not to think about having to face Tom again over the last few months. He had been furious when she’d sent him the papers for the divorce, had left more than a few messages telling her she was going to regret the choice. He had done what he always had; switched between violent threats and sad, hysterical apologies. 

“Can’t convince you to just leave everything there and not do this, huh?” Bev startled at the sound of Richie’s voice behind her as she was pulled out of memories of too many carefully hidden bruises. She picked up the list and folded it back up, tried to put it aside in the back of her mind just as she tucked it into the back of her purse before turning to give Richie a look.

“I’m already leaving pretty much everything behind as it is. This will be quick, in and out, just to grab the essentials that I need. Passport, social security, some of the paperwork for the business. Things I’m going to need. Tom’s agreed not to be there so it should be fine.” She knew that wasn’t necessarily the case even as she said it. Knew that Tom could promise a lot of things and have no intention on keeping them. “Ben will be with me.”

“So will the rest of us.”

“Richie.” Bev sighed as she shook her head. They were going to have each other’s backs but they couldn’t move in a gang everywhere they went for the rest of their lives.

“Yeah, saying my name with irritation won’t help with this. The others all agree and I don’t think any of us are going to budge. Look, it’s not that we don’t think you can handle yourself, Bev, I’m pretty certain you could kick my ass if you wanted to. But we’re not going to let you walk in there without us actively being present. We’re annoying like that.”

Bev gave a soft laugh as she stopped to stand beside him. She knew the others would be downstairs waiting. They hadn’t even talked to them about their fears on the deadlights and not a single one of them had been okay with the thought of her coming back here on her own. She could see it in Richie’s eyes though, that defiant fear of knowing.

_Knowing was a fucking bitch._ That was probably closer to the truth.

“We’re not going to be able to do this for everyone. We can’t pin down exactly when we’ll each be in danger to try and have the whole gang there to handle it.” Bev crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself in an attempt to find comfort.

“Yeah, well, we can do it for you so there’s no reason not to so you might as well accept it, Bev. We’re here; let us help.” She eyed him for a moment as Richie busied himself by listing up and looking at a frame that sat on Ben’s dresser. An old photo; Ben looking young as he stood with his parents.

“Fine but I expect you all to be on your best behavior.” Bev leaned and pressed a kiss against Richie’s cheek and he gave her a tight smile.

“That’s a tall order for this group, Molly Ringwald. Losers club isn’t known for our discretion.” Richie took a deep sigh and put his arm around her shoulders as he turned to walk along with her out of the room. “Honestly, I’m just curious to see what sort of hoity toity place you’d been living. I mean, apparently Ben’s been living his best fit life in this glass penthouse. I need to know just how short the short end of the stick I drew is.”

“Yeah, I mean, I wasn’t going to say anything but stand-up comedian, Rich? Really? Who thinks you’re funny?” Bev slipped her arms around his waist in return as they moved down the hall towards the stairs. She could hear the rest of the Losers talking down in the living room joking. Eddie’s laugh was followed by a half-hearted ‘_fuck you’ _from Stan though she missed what Eds had said.

“Hey, that’s why other people write my jokes. I’m just the conduit for other people’s humor.”

Bev saw the look on Richie’s face at the sound of Eddie’s laugh from downstairs. Saw that momentary fondness that she knew Richie reserved specifically for him. It made her feel a bittersweet twinge for him as she leaned her head on his shoulder. She knew that they’d been talking around the subject of their feelings but the second of melancholy on Richie’s face that followed that adoration made it clear they hadn’t confronted it directly yet.

“Are you going to try and start writing your own material again?” Bev asked as they started down the stairs at a slow pace, drawing out their chance to talk.

“Going to try but, like I said, a conduit for others. I’d like to think I still know how to be funny. What about you? Starting up a new fashion business since you decided to let the asshole buy control of your current line?” Bev gave a sigh as the mention of her business that would now be Tom’s. Not that he’d be able to keep it afloat. She’d been the driving force behind her fashion line and without her he’d be left floundering.

Bev caught sight of Ben when they were close to halfway down the stairs to where the group was visible. Felt the smile come to her lips and some of that sense of loss get chased away with a renewed appreciation for what she’d gained in return.

“I might. Maybe trying something a bit different. More comfort wear than high fashion.” She gave a soft shrug as she lifted her head from Richie’s shoulder. He gave a soft noise of amusement though she knew his attention was focused on Eddie just like her focus was on Ben.

“You’ll always be high fashion to me, baby.”

*

Bev had managed to avoid feeling nervous until they actually pulled up to the house. It hit her then and she toyed with the sleeves of her jacket as she did a quick scan to see if Tom’s car was somewhere in sight. There was no sign of it though and she hoped that meant he had actually followed through with his promise not to be there. It would be a blessing on several levels; she wouldn’t end up having to face him ever again and it would be a sign that all their worrying was for naught.

The predictions of the deadlights weren’t going to haunt them still.

“Let me go first. If he’s there it might be better if we just go without a confrontation.” Bev hated this feeling. Hated the sense of being scared and vulnerable and weak; that part of her still tried to tell her she needed to just _do what Tom says._ Stay safe. Behave. Do what he wants and you won’t get beat tonight.

She hated it as well because she knew that IT had done that to her. She had found her strength to break away from her father’s abuse only to have all recollection of the strength washed away. She had found herself falling back into those habits and it had happened so insidiously.

Tom had seemed wonderful at first. Loving and caring and gentle. Then he’d started to guilt her over time spent with friends. Questioned her relationships with any man that came within her radius.

That had been followed by the demands. Requests at first. Acted like they were optional until he’d tried to break her nose over a cigarette. She had apologized to him and he’d looked at her with pleading eyes to ask her to never make him do that again.

Bev shivered a little with the memory of it but also found a fire igniting inside. Anger. Rage. Defiance against everything he had ever tried to push upon her.

“We’ll follow your lead, Bev, but remember that you don’t have to do this alone.” Ben spoke up in the driver’s seat beside her. The others were in the rental car behind them; an SUV that Eddie had insisted had the best safety features but also managed to look like a surveillance vehicle. Bev wasn’t entirely convinced that hadn’t been a part of the selling point for him given what they were here to do. 

“I know.” Bev reached to take Ben’s hand and give it a gentle squeeze. That was one thing she understood and appreciated beyond belief despite the hesitancy about putting the others in Tom’s path. She knew that they had her back no matter what and that she didn’t have to do it on her own. She felt that swell of adoration as if it was fresh and new as Ben gave her a soft smile and lifted her hand up to press a kiss to her knuckles.

Bev knew that with Ben she’d never have to fear again. All there would be is love.

“I think we should probably get going before that lot decides to charge in on their own.” Ben glanced towards the rear-view mirror and Bev peered back towards the SUV that was parked behind them and saw the rest of the Losers filing out. Stan was standing on the edge of the sidewalk looking up towards her house with a small frown of concern. Not for the first time, Bev wondered if he hadn’t peeked the deadlights himself when It had tried to take a bite out of him as a kid.

“I’m pretty sure Bill’s willing and ready to just bust down the door,” Bev sighed though she smiled as she pulled her hand back from Ben so she could unbuckle. Ben followed her lead as he’d said he would though she heard his soft huff of laughter. Despite being such a gentle soul, Bill seemed constantly at the ready to bust down a few doors.

“You want us to go in first, Bev?” Stan asked her, gentle and a bit nervous sounding as Bev and Ben walked to join the others on the sidewalk. “If he is here, it might deter him if he sees us all first.”

“No, honestly it will probably piss him off more. I don’t see his car so he may actually have stood by his word. If he is there though, it will be better if I go in first. You all just follow close behind.” Bev offered Stan her hand, felt a small spike of sadness when she saw the hint of the scar on his wrist that was still looked fresh as it healed. He linked fingers with her as Ben came to stand beside her as they all gathered in a small semi-circle to look up at the place that she’d called home for so many years.

“I mean, we could shove Eddie in there first. We know that he can take a lickin’ and keep on tickin’.” Richie gave Eddie a gentle shove with his shoulder and a grin only to earn himself a single-fingered salute in return. Stan shared a look with her for a second, rolled his eyes in that sense of being forever over their insistent flirting, and Bev gave a soft laugh before starting towards the door.

She glanced towards the banister of the stone stairs as she walked up them to see if her ring still sat where she’d left it. Either Tom had found it or it had been washed away in the rain though as the banister was empty. She fished her key out of her pocket, another thing she’d be leaving behind once she was done here, and stepped up to the door.

Bev looked back and found them all there. Her Losers. Her hand didn’t shake when she unlocked the door and she stepped into the forey of her old life. The house was dark, lights off and quiet around her as she stepped inside. She reached, fumbling for a second to find the switch to turn on the lights. The stairway forey lit up, the painting looking down at her and feeling haunted with that tension she’d known had been her life with Tom.

She stepped further inside, listening to see if there was any sign of Tom and as she reached the bottom step, he made himself known from the dark doorway of the kitchen.

“Didn’t think you’d actually be dumb enough to come ba-“

“Wow, that is…a horrible fucking painting. I thought you were supposed to have taste, Bev.” Richie interrupted Tom as he stepped up besides him and if it wasn’t for that panicked cloying fear that had risen up at the sight of her soon-to-be ex-husband she would have laughed at the expression on Tom’s face.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Hi, I’m Richie. But like, really, that? It’s like walking in to find a Caravaggio where the eyes follow you and an extra dose of that “asshole” aesthetic.” Richie briefly offered Tom his hand though he pulled it back when Tom didn’t reach for it. Bev saw the other Losers quietly filing in behind the two of them unnoticed.

“Is this the fucking loser you’re leaving me for, Bev?” She could tell Tom was working up to trying to start something. To take a swing or get the belt. Normally, her stomach would be in her throat but it was hard to feel scared of him with the other Losers all gathered behind him looking about ready to start another rock fight.

“Me? God no, I’m gay. He’s the one she’s leaving you for.” Richie nodded his head towards Ben who was standing behind Tom and Bev watched him turn around clearly expecting to confront him. Bev did laugh when Tom clocked how much taller than him Ben was. She did laugh at the expression on his face as he realized that the other four were back there too.

“We should go get your stuff, Bev.” Stan shifted to step around Tom to join her on the stairs and it was like the tension left the room. Mike and Bill stepped up beside Ben, made it clear to Tom that they weren’t going to let him follow her upstairs. Three of the gentlest guys she knew and she had no doubt each of them would be willing to throw punches if Tom tried anything.

“Come on, smart ass.” Eddie smacked Richie on the shoulder as he passed him, signaling that he should come with them as well to help gather her things. Richie watched him for a second before giving a soft sigh and starting up after them. Bev linked arms with him as they started up the stairs and she pointed them in the direction of the office.

The four of them stayed quiet on the way to the office, some sense that there was still at least some need for concern. The second they were through the door though they stood there for a second looking around the overly tidy space where Tom had once locked up her check books and pieces of identification as a method of control and Bev gave a soft snort of laughter.

“Did you see his face when he turned around and saw Ben? Cause that was pretty fucking great.” Richie joined her, the two of them collapsing together into laughter that was half relief because they knew. They knew that if Bev had been there on her own that it wouldn’t have ended with Tom looking startled with the realization that he wasn’t going to bully his way through to her.

“That painting was much more gothic horror, Tozier. Do you know the combination to the safe, Bev?” Stan shook his head lightly at the two of them but there was a smile on his lips as he moved over to the desk. The safe was tucked back behind it and Bev pulled away from Richie as she fought to chase off that hysterical laughter for a second. Stan sat in Tom’s chair as he pulled his glasses out to put them on and squint at the combination key pad.

“If he hasn’t changed it than it’s the last five of his cell number. Two-three-five-four-two. To think he thought I didn’t actually know that was the combination.” Stan gave a soft chuckle as he entered the numbers in. There was the sound of Richie and Eddie bickering quietly in the background and Bev glanced back at them.

“What the fuck do you even know about Caravaggio? You’re lucky he didn’t just pop you in the face, you idiot.”

“Forgive me for having an interest in art history. And, he could have gone right on ahead and tried to pop one. I mean, I literally took Bowers out with an axe, I’m sure I could have knocked him back.”

“Those two need to get a fucking room.” The comment from Stan caught her off guard and she laughed calling attention to them as Stan got the safe door open. Apparently, Tom hadn’t seen the point of changing the code. “So, you’ll definitely want any forms of identification. I would also recommend any of the tax information from the business. At least some copies in case you’re ever audited for past years even if you’ve removed yourself from the company. I can do a quick leaf through everything, make sure there’s nothing that you might need. It doesn’t actually look like he has much in here.”

“You’re a saint, Stan.” Bev pressed a kiss to the top of Stanley’s head as he reached to dig through the papers inside the safe. He was able to quickly uncover where Tom had her stack of identification and documents stowed away and pulled them out to set them aside. “The absolute best.”

“You all keep saying that and I might just start believing it,” Stan said softly with a slight shrug. Bev gave him a light squeeze, tried to impress upon him that they truly meant it. Stan had always looked out for them; thinking they had lost him had been like think they’d all lost a piece of themselves. Bev was positive she wasn’t the only one who wanted him to understand how important he was.

“Bev!” Tom’s voice came from out near the stairs somewhere with the sound of raised voices and she froze in place. Stan shifted away from the safe, hands carefully tucking her back closer to it as he rolled the chair between her and the door before standing. Eddie and Richie both had shifted too, Richie moving to push himself in the front with the determination of someone who knew he wasn’t in danger.

Bev wasn’t as certain on that as he seemed to be. Just because this wasn’t the scenario that they’d seen for him didn’t mean things could change. The thought sent some of the fear in her throat once more as she heard the argument continue downstairs, Tom screaming her name once more before there was the sound of a crash and a round of loud curses. Footsteps came barreling up from below at a rushed pace and Bev knew that it was Tom. That he’d gotten ahead of the others and was coming to find her.

There was a long tense moment as they stood at the ready; Eddie gripping the back of Richie’s shirt. All three of them stayed between her and the door, her knights in flannel and khaki. They heard footsteps approaching and Eddie tugged Richie back a step or two as they waited for Tom to barge in.

The door swung open and Mike appeared. He stopped short just inside when he saw them all lined up staring at him in anticipation. Bev breathed a sigh of relief that came out almost in sync with the others.

“Jesus, Mike…what the hell happened?”

“Guy thought it would be a good idea to try and get past us. Took a few swings at us with an umbrella before Ben laid him out. The other two are watching him but we probably don’t have long if we want to avoid problems.”

“Well, shit…Guess we take what we have and go?” Richie glanced back at her with a look that somehow managed to be both an apology and an ‘I told you so’. Bev rolled her eyes as she stepped out of the way of Stan as he carefully reached around her to grab the stack they’d already collected from the safe.

“What? No, we’re here to get Bev’s shit, we’re getting her shit. We should have a bit of time, if Ben laid him out then he’ll be down for at least...ten minutes. Won’t be long but if there’s anything major, there should be time. Stan, you keep looking for anything that might be important to have. Bev, is there anything you want to grab somewhere else in the house?” Eddie shook his head, giving Richie a light shove that earned him an offended look.

“Since the fuck when are you Mr. Take Charge?” 

“Risk Management, asshole.” Eddie brushed off Richie’s question though Bev could see the nerves in his face. She knew he didn’t like the idea of them staying there any longer but he wanted to make sure she had anything she needed or wanted from the house.

“I have a keepsake box in the bedroom I’d like to grab.”

“I can go with Bev. You two help Stan and we all meet downstairs in about five?” Mike asked expectantly as he offered a hand out towards her.

“Yeah, great. No more than five. Come on and be useful asshole.” Eddie nodded as he tugged Richie over towards the desk. Bev stepped around them to take Mike’s hand as they stepped back out into the hall. She took a moment to look over the banister down into the forey as they passed and spotted Ben looking up at her. Bill was crouched down next to Tom who was, indeed, laid out flat on the floor near the bottom of the stairs.

She took the lead then, pulled Mike along with her towards the bedroom. Bev had to pause for a moment when she stepped inside. The room was a mess; Tom had been busy while she was gone and her clothes were scattered around and torn into shreds. Where the rest of the house had seemed the same as it had been before she left for Derry, here there was destruction scattered about. It didn’t escape her that this would be the room where most of her things resided. Tom wouldn’t have damaged the rest of the house because it was a testament to him. The bedroom, especially her closet, was ‘her’ space though. One of the few places she was able to choose some of the actual décor and it was those things that were her choices shredded upon the floor now.

If this had been before, Tom would have said he’d just lost control. Hadn’t been able to help himself because she had just made him so mad. It didn’t escape her now that if he ever had truly been as out of control as he said it wouldn’t have only been her things that got broken. Wouldn’t have only been her who had suffered lashes and bruises.

“You okay, Bev?” Mike stood at her side, rested his hand on her shoulder as she took it in and felt that anger rise up once more. It was tension and rage and a scream trying to climb up out of her throat.

“Yeah, I’m fine…” She managed not to yell it and shook herself out of the momentary shock as she moved to the closet.

Bev had always known anything important needed to be squirreled away; hidden where it couldn’t be torn up or tossed out. She’d learned that with her father and she had found herself with the habit once she’d realized that Tom was the same.

Mike stayed close behind her as she stepped through the wreckage of clothes and shoes scattered across the floor. Everything was hers, Tom’s clothes still sat perfectly hung and untouched in his half of the space.

Anger. Clenched fists and teeth as she moved to the small set of drawers near the back. Opened the middle on up and then forced her nails between the false bottom and the side of the drawer to pull it up. Underneath was a small keepsake box. Little things that meant more to her than the business or the money. Some of the things she hadn’t even remembered their importance but had known there was a reason she wanted to hold them close.

She cracked the box open to peek inside. A photo of her mother, the last that probably existed, dredged up a long time ago from her father’s things. Letters from friends in college and just beyond that she had long lost touch with or that Tom hadn’t approved of. And a photograph of some old grade school friends who’s names she hadn’t remembered a few months ago and who were now standing behind her as she left another abusive relationship behind.

She put the lid back in place and hugged the box to her chest before turning to step back out of the closet. Mike stood in the doorway of it looking around at the careful and intentional destruction Tom had left behind with a concerned frown on his face.

“Is that it?”

“Yeah, this is it. There’s nothing else here for me.” Mike studied her for a moment before giving a soft nod of his head.

“Then let’s get the others and get out of here.”

They headed towards the stairs, reaching the top of them as Stan stepped out of the office with a bundle of papers under his arm looking exasperated as Eddie and Richie followed behind him. Tom was awake again though he wasn’t on his feet just yet. He was eyeing Bill and Ben critically as they all started down the stairs together but the second that he saw her that anger sparked in his eyes once more.

Only Bev could see past it now. It wasn’t anger that drove Tom. It was fear. Fear that he wouldn’t be the one in control, fear that she wasn’t going to bend to his will and come back. Fear that she’d clearly seen what he’d done and she wasn’t breaking down in despair.

“I’m pressing charges, Bev! You bring your gang of thug boyfriends in to rough me up and steal what’s mine! I’m going to ruin-“

“Shut the fuck up, Tom.” Bev didn’t even pause as she moved past him. Didn’t give him the time, didn’t give him the chance to think for even a moment that he mattered to her anymore.

Bev was free. She was safe both from Tom and the he was supposed to bring to her that had seemed so inevitable in the deadlights.

When she stepped outside, the other Losers close behind her, it had started to rain. It was cool and cleansing as she left the key to the front door of her old life behind in the same place she’d left her ring.


	3. Getting your ducks in a row

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Losers come up with a plan once Richie and Bev talk with them about their concerns about the deadlight visions. Mike postpones his trip to Florida in flavor of sticking close to an old friend. Richie and Eddie try to define where they're at with each other as Eddie prepares to return to New York.

Bill winced as the bag of frozen peas pressed against his cheek where Tom had managed to land one decent hit before Ben had knocked him down. They were all back at Ben’s place now, sitting in the living room spread out amongst the furniture. Bev and Richie had said they needed to talk but Bill hadn’t expected it to go where it had. He glanced at Mike who sat down beside him, tried to get some gauge of what he thought of it all.

Bill still had to gauge his own thoughts on the situation; on what he’d been debating asking Mike about.

“So, you think the things you two saw in the deadlights might still come about unless we stop them?” Mike met his eyes as he spoke and Bill could see the worry even as he tried to keep his tone even. They had thought this was over but if Bev and Richie were right…

“We’re not sure. It’s a possibility and with what happened with Tom it might be better to be cautious.” Bev gave a soft shrug as she leaned back against Ben’s chest and looked to Richie who seemed far from happy being the focus of the attention for once. He gave one of those tight-lipped smiles that belied all of his anxiety and tension; it had been the same one he’d had while encouraging the rest of them to come along to get Bev’s things.

That hadn’t taken much convincing; they had all seen the signs. None of them had felt comfortable taking that risk of her going without back up.

“I mean, it sure would suck if we all managed to make it out of clown town only to be taken out by things that two of us have gotten sneak peaks of.” Richie tried to break up some of the tension with a bit of humor but it fell flat in the center of their group.

Mike’s focused turned on Bill for a second, hand moving to carefully nudge the bag of peas back up in place on his swollen cheek. Bill hadn’t even realized he’d let his hand drop from his face, wondered briefly just how nasty it must look as he clocked the concern in Mike’s eyes. He searched his face for a second, tried to get a sense of just what he was thinking. The two of them, they’d been just about on the same page since Mike had called them all back to Derry.

Well, once Mike had told him the truth on everything.

“How are we going to stop it? We can’t be together all the time; we all have separate lives we’ve got to get back to eventually.” Eddie speaking up from where he paced the floor behind the couch pulled Bill’s focus away again. Mike dropped his eyes at the same moment as they turned to look back at the group. Eddie was giving Richie worried glances behind his back. If he was attempting to be inconspicuous about it, he was failing. The two of them had hardly been able to keep their eyes off each other from the second they’d seen each other in Jade of the Orient.

“We’ll figure out a system. Go over what you two have seen, stay in contact and make sure we do what we can to avoid ending up in situations where we might wind up in trouble.” Bill spoke up in hopes of easing the nerves he could see in Eddie. Ease the nerves he knew that they were all feeling. The others looked to him expectantly, somehow he was always their unofficial leader. Stan gave him a small encouraging smile from where he was curled up in one of the over-sized chairs.

Bill hoped that the fact he’d managed to survive his suicide attempt meant that he’d already avoided his deadlights end. That he was safe and so was Bev now. Two down, five more to go. He wouldn’t know that for sure until they heard what Richie and Bev had both seen.

“Keeping in touch will be easy. Send an SOS if we end up feeling unsafe.” Stan offered the suggestion quietly, shifting to make room for Eddie who came to sit down on the arm of the chair a bit roughly.

“How do we know if we stop it from happening once that it won’t try and happen again?” Silence followed Eddie’s question as they all sat and let it sink in. Would they ever really be safe?

“It’s not here anymore to try and manipulate new situations?” Ben’s suggestion felt more like an attempt to ease their minds but there was a chance he was right. Especially if Bev and Richie had both seem similar ends for them despite being caught in the deadlights almost three decades apart. It would make sense, It clearly had some influence before but now…now it was gone.

“That tracks. And really, it’s probably the best we can aim for right now.” Mike spoke with more certainty than he likely felt and Bill patted his knee before standing up to head into the kitchen. His cheek was numb enough as it was and they’d need something to be able to go over the visions.

“So, let’s go over it all. Make s-sure we know what to look out for. Go from there.” He moved to the freezer, mentally cursed the fact that his stutter always made it clear when he was feeling nervous or scared. He did his best to maintain a calm exterior despite it as he found the note pad he’d seen on the counter earlier. Ben’s grocery list was scribbled down on the top sheet and he carefully removed it to leave on the fridge before bringing the pad with him back to the living room.

“Alright, yeah, great. Amazing. So, tell us how we’re supposed to die.” Eddie’s voice was somewhere between nervous sarcasm and honest willingness to solve this as he shifted from the arm of the chair to giving Richie a shove to sit down beside him on the couch instead. Bill caught the roll of Stan’s eyes as he did this and surprised a bit of a smile. Some things never really changed.

“Right, yeah. Let’s rehash that trauma so we can all share it,” Richie muttered under his breath with a heavy lack of enthusiasm. Still, they all scooted a little closer together as he set the notepad down on the coffee table between them.

The Losers were planning on saving each other once more.

*

Mike wasn’t certain he liked knowing how he was supposed to die. He liked even less knowing, not just one, but two different versions of how all his friends were meant to die. Bev and Richie’s visions had been just different enough, the circumstances altered just enough, but It still had devised the same ends for them all.

For Mike, it would be an accident. In Bev’s, it had happened while he was fleeing from It when the others hadn’t made it back to help him. He’d crashed after seeing the mimics of his dead friends standing in the road. That was the version that likely wouldn’t be happening now but that wasn’t much comfort considering, in Richie’s vision, those visions weren’t what caused the accident. He was still supposed to die trapped and alone with no one to realize until it was too late. No one would be there to get him out this time.

The visions for the others were just as disheartening and concerning. They’d spent some time going over each of them, comparing to try and figure out where the differences had been made. It had left them all feeling discouraged and more than a little disturbed by the time they’d finished and dispersed throughout Ben’s place to try and get some rest.

There was a plan now in place but still no real way to be certain just when or if the deadlights visions would find them for sure. Mike hoped that at least knowing the _how _would be enough.

He sighed as he leaned back into the couch in the dim lit living room; Ben’s expansive windows looking out over a dark stretch of land below that valleyed out with the lights of the city. He had the list on the coffee table in front of him; Richie’s scribbles besides Bev’s neater print as they had broken down the difference in their visions. That had at least settled one thing in Mike’s mind; he was fairly confident that It had to have been manipulating things. The changes in the visions seemed tied to the fact that they’d all come together to defeat It. One last ditch effort on Its part to ensure a victory against them in the end. 

They weren’t going to let that happen though. Mike wouldn’t let that happen; not after being wrong about the Ritual of Chüd. Not after almost getting them all killed for no reason once already.

Mike sighed as he pushed the list across the table as he took a sip of the whiskey Ben had gotten him before heading up for bed. The others were likely all asleep too, spread out in the extra rooms until they’d start parting ways at last. Mike didn’t know exactly where he was going to go. He wanted to stay out of Derry now that he had the actual opportunity for it.

“Can’t sleep?” Mike glanced back as he heard Bill’s voice come from the office behind him where he’d been camped out on the floor.

“Nah, not really. Too much on my mind.” Mike shifted to make room for Bill to sit down beside him on the couch. He was tired but there was too much on his mind to be able to just turn it off. “Thought we were free of It.”

“Ha, yeah. Me too. We’ll manage this though, Mikey. Like we’ve handled everything else.” Bill gently took his glass of whiskey from him to take a sip, propping his feet up on the coffee table. “We have a plan at least.”

“Yeah…not much of one.” Mike shifted to match Bill’s posture, propped his socked feet up on the table beside his as Bill handed him the glass back. The ice had melted some, had watered down the whiskey but honestly that was just fine.

“You have a plan for where you’re going to go? I know you were thinking Florida but…”

“But?” Mike gave Bill a questioning look. There was a lot of unsaid things hanging on the end of that sentence. Seeing each other had brought up a lot of things that Mike hadn’t even realized was missing. Bill had always been a guide for knowing how to handle things; had been since their friendship had started in a joint attempt to survive childhood. It had felt a lot like coming home even with Mike being the only one who had never left.

He knew they weren’t the only ones trying to figure out how to work with that wave of reemerging feelings and memories.

“I’d li-like you to m-meet Audra.” Bill pursed his lips as he looked at him, the nerves apparently even without his old stutter slipping into place momentarily. Mike tried to read just what he meant by that. Just what exactly the deal was here because Bill didn’t typically get nervous with him. He caught Bill’s eyes glance towards the slip of paper on the far side of the table.

“It’d be nice to meet her, Bill, but I don’t think she’s gonna put up with me becoming a third wheel friend just so I’m not on my own.” Mike kept his tone light and joking as he raised a brow at Bill. A soft flush rose in Bill’s face at the comment and Mike narrowed his eyes just a bit in an attempt to read if there was anything else in the suggestion. This wasn’t the first time that Bill had tried to convince Mike to come with him.

When they’d all been graduating high school, Bill had tried to convince him to head off to college with him. That they could room together while Bill studied English and Mike could start on his history degree. Mike hadn’t been able to bring himself to leave though; not like the rest of them had. He hadn’t been able to shake that feeling It was going to come back and he’d been right.

Mike just hadn’t expected them all to forget him.

“She’d like you…and it could be for a little while or a l-l-long time. We’re…uh, we’re open to having others around.” Bill winced a little as he fought to get his words out and snagged the glass back from him for a moment to take another drink. Mike studied him for a long second as he let the suggestion and all it seemed to speak to sink in. “I-I get it if you don’t…you’ve gotta live your life, yeah? I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, no I’m glad you did.” Mike glanced at that damned list, knew that Bill’s name was on the top of it. The thought of not being there when he needed help…that sense of loss settled in his chest all over again. “I don’t really know where else I’d go but I don’t want to go back to Derry, that’s for sure. I can come stay for a while, move on when I’ve worn out my welcome.” Mike patted Bill’s knee, let his hand linger for just a second before resting his arm over the back of the couch behind them.

Aside from doing school, getting his degrees and the work he’d done focused on Derry’s history while running the library, Mike hadn’t really given a lot of thought to what he wanted from life. It had always been about making sure that It didn’t manage to come back. He’d thought Florida would be it but sitting there now with Bill, even if that threat of it not being over wasn’t looming over them, Mike couldn’t find a reason to say no. Maybe it would be a week or two; maybe it’d be longer.

“Hell, maybe you can h-help me figure out how to write a good ending while you’re with us.” Bill sounded a little more at ease as he made the joke and Mike shook his head as he gave a soft laugh.

“I’m not sure you want to hear my opinion on your endings. We can leave that to Audra.” 

“Oh, you two can apparently commiserate over it. Audra hates them too. I think everyone does.” There was a bit of relief in Bill’s voice that was mirrored in the shy sort of smile he gave Mike just then. Mike let his hand sit between them, palm up in invitation to see if Bill would take it. He didn’t have to wait long before their fingers linked together between them.

“Well, you’ll land on a good one eventually, I’m sure.” Mike gave Bill’s hand a soft squeeze and laid his head back against the cushions of the couch to close his eyes. He felt Bill’s head come to rest on his shoulder as they sat in the momentary silence. Ben’s place was quiet around them, the other all fast asleep or at least managing an approximation of it by now.

“What do you think about the plan? The SOS texts? Trying to stay out of situations that might lead up to the visions?” Bill spoke quietly this time as if he was worried about breaking the peace that had settled over them. Mike creased his brow as he thought about it. It had been the best they could think of given they had no timeline. They weren’t even certain it was all going to happen.

“I think we’re aware that we need to be careful. That we at least know what to watch for.” Mike turned his head, let his cheek rest on the top of Bill’s head and found comfort in his closeness. In not being left behind anymore. “I think that might be the best we can ask for. In the meantime, we’ve at least got each other.”

*

“You’re not going back there.”

Eddie sighed as Richie flopped down on the bed beside his bag with purposeful force to dislodge some of his things that he’d laid out neatly on top of the sheets. He gave him a glare as he tried to gather them back up. Richie stretched, spread himself out to purposefully knock more things aside. He was like a fucking cat.

“I’m not going back, Richie. Not to Myra. I’ve got to go though to get things sorted out. File for divorce and, you know, return to fucking work cause not all of us have the luxury of working a job where we set our own hours. I’m probably going to be lucky if I even still have a job.” Eddie snatched back up his toiletries that were at risk of falling between the floor and the bed.

“You know you don’t have to worry about that.” Richie spoke quietly as he reached the snag Eddie’s aftershave away from him before he could pick it up. Eddie gave a frustrated sigh as he stopped to give Richie another look. He knew what Richie was suggesting.

They hadn’t talked about it; not directly. This thing between the two of them. Talking about it head on felt like a lot still and now that he knew that Richie had been keeping his concerns about the deadlights visions to himself it felt even harder.

“Do I know that, Rich?” Eddie snatched the aftershave back from as Richie gave him a roll his eyes like that was supposed to answer the question. “If you want to say something, Richie, you’ve got to actually say it.”

Eddie felt a small spike of emotion that was somewhere between fear and excitement as he shoved the aftershave into his bag. There was a moment of silence that felt like a lifetime. Eddie immediately wanted to take it back, to tell Richie to forget about it and that he shouldn’t be pushing for them to actually confront this. He knew. He knew how Richie felt even if they hadn’t really said it. Just like he knew that Richie’s concern was founded in his own fear of somehow losing Eddie again.

He hadn’t realized he’d stopped packing, hand still shoved in the bag where he’d dropped the aftershave, until he felt Richie’s hand on his wrist. Eddie blinked as he realized that at some point Richie had sat up, was looking at him entirely too quietly.

_Look what you’ve done, Eddie, you’ve made a fool of yourself. _

Eddie never had been able to fully shake free from that voice in the back of his head that more often than not sounded like his mother. Reminded him of his limitations and failings. Richie gently pulled him a little closer and Eddie shut his eyes for a moment to try and shut those doubts out as he let him. He felt Richie’s hands come to rest on his waist lightly, almost timidly, and Eddie opened his eyes to look down at him.

Those doubts were pushed away with the expression on Richie’s face. Eddie felt a little short of breath at the sight of it, that unguarded look of adoration.

“I could go with you. I don’t want you to be on your own. I want to make sure you’re safe because…well, because…” Richie stumbled a little over his words and he tugged Eddie even closer to bury his face against his stomach. Eddie flushed softly, rested his hands in Richie’s hair as he scrubbed his fingertips against his scalp. The intimacy, familiar but new all at the same time, another thing that helped quiet the doubts in his mind even as Richie struggled to say what he meant. 

“I love you. I’m in love with you which is a whole hell of a lot to say just like that. But I think at this point maybe it’s a good thing to say since I’m basically making out with your abs at the moment. How the fuck do you have these abs? Hey…where are you going…”

Eddie had pulled back from Richie to start packing again. He shouldn’t have put the aftershave into his bag without it being sealed inside a plastic bag. It would leak and get all over his clothes and he’d end up with all his things smelling like he’d taken a bath in the stuff. Richie’s hands stayed on his waist but he didn’t stop Eddie from moving to pack, just followed along with him.

“I need to finish getting packed if we’re going to catch a flight. Especially since we’ll have to book another seat on the plane. Actually, you should probably do that online. The flight might be booked up.”

“So…I’m going with you then?” Richie gave him a bit of a confused frown as he let his hands fall away from Eddie’s waist.

“You said you wanted to come with me. There’s ground rules though.” Eddie gave Richie a pointed look and saw the mischievous look on his face in response.

“Ground rules? Really?”

“Yeah, cause we’re not doing this. Not until things are squared away with Myra. I can’t be that person. I won’t.” Eddie shook out one of the plastic bags and started carefully loading his toiletries into in where they’d be safely contained. He heard Richie’s laughter start and just shook his head; understood that it probably sounded ridiculous but he was sticking with it. He wanted to be with Richie but he wanted to do this right. He wanted to do something right.

“What exactly would we be doing, Eds? What sort of improper things would we be getting up to?” Richie laid back on the bed, his weight causing more of Eddie’s stuff to shift out of order all over again. Eddie felt that blush again as Richie waggled his eyebrows at him and just flipped him off in response.

“I mean, I can’t imagine what you think we’d be doing that would cause problems with your ex-mom.”

“Fuck you-

“You haven’t even acknowledged the fact that I said I’m in love with you so clearly-“

“I said you could come with me-“

“I didn’t realize that was a reciprocate to ‘I love you’. Unless I’m supposed to just be your side dish until you find someone you _actually_ love?”

“You’re more like a case of food poisoning.”

“You’d have to eat me to actually get food poisoning, Eddie Spaghetti.”

“God, can you two get a room. Honestly.” Eddie stopped to look back at the other spare bed where Stan was lying down with his headphones in. He had pulled the headphones out to look at the two of them with an expression of pure irritation.

“We’re in a room, Stan. In fact, one would even call it ‘our room’.” Richie spoke up from where he was lying on the bed and Stan rolled his eyes at the two of them. “You know, Stanley, if you’re going to continue your sabbatical you could always be chaperone. Make sure I don’t damage our poor dear Eddie’s reputation with scandalous behavior?”

“And listen to the two of you grossly flirt for entire spans of time? I think I’ll pass. And I definitely won’t be submitting Patty to you two. Bev and Ben are the two normal ones I think she’ll be able to handle.” Stan got up from the bed and came over to them, snagging some of Eddie’s things out from underneath Richie to hand to him.

“Despite the fact that you specifically just said I wasn’t ‘normal’, thank you,” Eddie said with a slight glare as he took the offered stack of shirts. Stan gave him a small smirk as he bumped shoulders with him and nodded towards Richie like he was trying to tell him something. Eddie gave him a confused look as he started on refolding the shirts that Richie had wrinkled as Stan gave him another slow nod.

Eddie looked at Richie who had picked up a bottle of facial toner he hadn’t gotten put away yet. He was squinting at it as he read the back of it, seemed to be distracting himself with it. Eddie recognized the look on his face, it was that tense falsely relaxed expression that had replaced that open adoration from earlier. When Eddie looked back to Stanley, he got a small shrug and a pat on the shoulder.

“Granted, Patty’s always wanted to see New York. Maybe if we can swing a little more time away, we can come and see you two.” Stan had turned to walk out of the room, to leave the two of them alone with one last pointed look at Eddie as he went.

Eddie frowned as he focused very specifically on the shirt he was folding; felt that nervous flutter in his gut as Richie called after Stan that maybe they didn’t want them to visit now. He knew what Stan was trying to get at, that maybe it wasn’t entirely a joke that Richie had called him on not saying anything back in regards to his confession of love.

“I don’t know why you use all this shit, Eds, it does nothing for your complexion,” Richie said as he tossed the bottle aside and gave him a tight smile.

“You know, don’t you?” Eddie winced as it came out in a tumble of nerves. It wasn’t fair to have expected him to say it and then be avoiding it himself. It felt big though, a promise of things that would have been easier if they didn’t have potential doom still hovering around them. Saying ‘I love you’ to Myra had always been performative, expected and demanded. It was easier somehow when he hadn’t really meant it. Not the way he meant it now. Not the way he meant it with Richie.

“What? That you use it to…’clear leftover impurities, leaving your skin silky soft and prepped for products’?” Richie picked the bottle back up specifically to read the back with a dramatic flare and Eddie reached across him to snatch it away from him. Richie pulled it away, stretched his arm over his head to keep it out of Eddie’s reach without him practically having to crawl on top of him. Eddie made a frustrated face as he tried for the bottle, had to keep himself from falling over when Richie shifted unexpectedly beneath him to try and wriggle further out of reach.

“No, I mean, yeah it does that. That’s the point of toner, asshole. You know I love you too, right?” Distracted as he was, the words slipped out with a lot more ease than he’d thought they would. The fight dropped out of Richie as if he’d kneed him in the gut (or maybe Eddie had actually kneed him in the gut on accident). Either way, he snatched the toner away and pulled himself back to stand up triumphantly.

“Shit, Eds, you can’t just spring the big ‘I love you’ on a guy like that,” Richie said in a tone of voice that Eddie didn’t recognize as he put the toner into the plastic bag with his other toiletries. He looked at Richie and immediately felt self-conscious again as he saw the expression of adoration had returned.

“You did it first, asshole, I was just making sure you knew it was…reciprocated.” Eddie focused back on packing, gave up for the moment on making it perfect so that he could just get it done instead. They really would need to make sure that Richie was able to get on the flight if he was coming with him instead of heading home to California.

“You’re going to wrinkle your shirts there, Eds.” Richie sat up as if it took him a lot of effort and Eddie just shook his head. Kept shoving his things into his bag just to have something to do. “Eddie Spaghetti.”

Richie’s hands got in his way again, pushed the bag aside and gently took his wrists to stop him from continuing to ruin everything he owned. He’d need to repack everything he’d just shoved in there. That or somehow settle his mind of the fact he’d be ironing everything out the second he got to…wherever he was going to stay since it wasn’t going to be at home.

Eddie finally looked at Richie as he sat down beside him, felt Richie’s arms wrap around him in what felt like an apology. He had nothing to apologize for.

“We take this at your pace, okay? You want us to just be friends until everything is settled then we’re friends. We’ll always be friends, Spaghetti head.” 

Eddie let himself settle against Richie’s side, let himself be held for the moment as he tried to get rid of those shaky nerves. The shortness of breath that he’d always been told was asthma but really was probably anxiety. He closed his eyes tightly, let his head rest on Richie’s shoulder as he felt a whole lot of confusing emotions. Overwhelmingly, however, he felt safe.

“How about you sit for a bit and I’ll get the rest of your things packed? We will want to make sure I can get on the flight with you. Granted, first class doesn’t usually fill up. It will be a burden to be sitting up there on my own but that’s my cross to bear. I’ll be sure to wait for you when we land since I know coach always takes forever to clear out.” Richie let go of him to stand and start grabbing the last of Eddie’s things for him. Eddie watched with a small amount of awe as Richie actually pulled some of the mess back out of the bag to try and carefully fold and replace it. 

“So, in this whole plan of yours you’ll be in first class?” 

“Yep.” 

“While I’m still stuck in coach?”

“Well, yeah Eddie. You already have your ticket. Unless you’re asking me to upgrade it for you?” Richie gave him a wide-eyed look as he struggled to get a button up folded. Eddie rolled his eyes as he snagged one of his other shirts and carefully and slowly demonstrated _how_ to properly fold them. Richie tried. It was better than it had been when he did his best to fold the next one for him.

“You know what, never mind. I don’t think I’d want to spend an entire two-hour flight sitting beside you anyway, jackass.” Eddie set his folded shirt into the bag and decided he wasn’t going to help Richie with the rest as he let himself lie back on the bed this time.

“We’ll make sure we sit together, Eds. Don’t you worry.” Richie said with a soft chuckle. Eddie watched him, took note of the care Richie was attempting to put into getting his things put away for him even if he clearly never folded his own clothes. He could have just grabbed everything and shoved it into the bag, it’s what Eddie had expected when he’d said he’d take over.

Richie finished getting the bag packed by placing the toiletry bag on top and managing to force it to zip closed. Eddie wouldn’t have put his toiletries in with the clothes like that but he couldn’t bring himself to complain as Richie moved the bag aside and came to sit back down beside him. When Richie laid back, Eddie found they were close enough he could easily see the freckles on Richie’s face.

“So, New York?”

“Yeah, who knows. Maybe I’ll be able to do a stint on SNL while I’m there. I’m sure my manager will be _thrill-_“ Eddie felt the impulse to kiss Richie as he spoke and ended up following it. It went against what he had just said, that boundary that they had to wait, but the instinct had been a knot in his chest that felt like it was cutting off his air. Pressing his lips against Richie’s was like the first gasping breath after you’d been under water for too long.

He heard Richie give a surprised hum, a pause before he leaned further into the kiss and Eddie felt his weight shift even closer. Eddie had always assumed people were exaggerating when they felt some sort of spark when they kissed. He had never felt a ‘spark’; sure, he had enjoyed it some but it never seemed like anything special.

It was different with Richie, less a spark and more a bang as he felt his tongue momentarily tease along his lower lip. And then Richie was puling away, reluctantly but still untangling themselves from the kiss as he gave a soft shake of his head and Eddie felt he’d done something wrong.

“Sorry.”

“No, you have…absolutely nothing to be sorry about with that one, Eds. Just…you said you wanted to wait. Until things were squared away. I want to make sure we don’t do anything you’ll regret or feel guilt over.”

“Shit, I know…” Eddie groaned as he pressed his hands to his face, could already feel the dredges of guilt in the back of his mind. This was going to be difficult enough on Myra, that he was leaving…

_Difficult enough she’ll try to poison you_. The reminder of the conversation from the night before resurfaced in his mind. Richie had seen Myra try to drug him, not to necessarily kill him though that had been the result. But to make him sick. To make him stay. There was a fresh wave of worry that settled over him then as he peeked over at Richie who was giving him an amused look.

“Being with me might put you at more risk. It’s going to be a lot harder to hide…” 

“Fuck hiding who I am, Eddie. I’m not going to let myself be scared back into the closet. Even if…this wasn’t a whole thing,” Richie motioned between them to make his point, “I don’t think I could just go back to the way things have been. I was miserable. If I tried to go back to that I’d continue to be miserable. Besides, I am going to be with you which is already different than what I saw. Death becomes me only when I’m on my own and I’m going to be with my knight in adorable armor instead.”

Richie spoke confidently but Eddie could still pick up on some of the nerves that he’d had last night. It had been clear how uncomfortable Richie had been talking about the deadlight’s visions, how nervous they made him. Eddie searched with his hand to find Richie’s where it was resting between them, linked their fingers together with a soft squeeze of reassurance.

They’d make this work. He’d keep Richie safe.

Richie believed in him and Eddie…he could be braver than he thought he was if it was for Richie. 


	4. Ice Cracked over a Pond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan and Patty come to visit Richie and Eddie in New York as winter sets in fully. Patty finds Stan's friends both surprising and endearing while continuing to worry about what happened several months ago. She knows Stan hasn't told her the truth but doesn't know how to approach it. 
> 
> Meanwhile, the Losers continue to have to sleep with one eye open waiting to see who might run into their deadlights ending next.

They had all gone on their own way after the incident with Bev’s ex-husband. Stan had returned home. Returned to Patty who had greeted him in her loving way, worry still clear in her eyes and Stan had felt a bit guilty all over again. He hadn’t wanted to scare her, to hurt her. He knew logically it would be a consequence but, well…

His job hadn’t kept their promise to hold his job for him. They said he’d run out of time, had come up with all the reasons they could but he knew they just didn’t want him back. They were worried he’d be a liability. He was a fucking accountant; not a doctor or a pilot or something like that. They had enough in savings to carry them over for a little while but not for long.

It freed them up though, for the winter break, to go and see Eddie and Richie in New York. Patty had been enamored with the thought of being in New York new the holidays. She was even more excited to meet his friends though Stan definitely had some reservations about her first introduction to the Losers being those two.

“This feels so glamorous, Stan.” They’d arrived the night before and gotten settled into their hotel room only to immediately fall asleep. Now though, Patty was standing near the window looking out while wearing one of the plush robes that had been waiting for them when they’d arrived. The room was thanks to Richie who had refused to let them make reservations somewhere cheaper that they could have covered on their own. It was also in the same building as where Eddie and Richie were staying while they worked on finalizing Eddie’s divorce.

Stan was happy he hadn’t argued with Richie about the place too hard now as he looked over at Patty standing at the window, looking down at the city streets as snow dusted the sidewalks below.

“When are we meeting with your friends?” Patty turned to face him, her eyes looking him over quickly with that small crease of a frown on her face though she turned it into a smile soon enough. Stan looked down at the paper cup he had in his hands filled with coffee from the machine in the room. His careful caring Patty was going to meet the two most vulgar friends he had. What had he been thinking? Granted, all the others would be a breath of fresh air in comparison.

“In a few hours. They were busy first thing this morning but we’ll be able to head over around lunch. Did you want to go down and grab breakfast?” Patty moved over to him and Stan sat back in the chair so she could perch on his knee. She was gentle and lovely, like a bird; his dove.

“Oh, we probably should.” She draped her arms gently over his shoulders and he smiled at her. Felt that same flutter of love he’d felt when they’d met in college. She gave him a small conspiratorial grin then, leaning in close as he took a sip of his coffee. “Do you think we could order room service?”

“I absolutely think we can order room service. We’re in New York, why not live a little?” He gave her a wink as he saw her excited smile light up her face. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek before getting back up, moving to grab the room service menu from the table. Stan gave a soft sigh as he tugged at the sleeves of his sweatshirt he’d worn to bed. New York was a bit colder than Georgia. That and he hated the way people’s eyes went to his wrists when the scars were visible. They’d fade eventually but they were still raw and red and obvious right now. The cold seemed to make them almost more so.

“Do you know what you’d like? Maybe…oh, they have an eggs benedict?”

“I think that sounds wonderful, dove. Are you good ordering? I might take a quick shower.” He saw a flicker of worry in her eyes. Felt that resurgence of guilt even as she did her best to chase that hint of fear away with another smile. He knew it would take time, time for her to trust and for them to be back to normal. She was scared for him because she didn’t know, didn’t realize that the entire reason he’d tried to kill himself was gone now.

Stan wanted to live. Wanted to live with Patty and wanted to be there to make sure his friends got the chance to live as well.

“Of course, Stanley.”

*

“Stan the man!” Patty was a little startled as the door was opened for the two of them and Stan was immediately pulled into a hug by one of the men who looked vaguely familiar to her. She heard Stan’s laugh, sudden and bright, and it made her heart sing.

“Jesus, Richie, let the poor guy breath.” The shorter man inside, Eddie by the sounds of it, gave Richie a light smack. Despite his words though, the second Stan was let go, Eddie pulled him into a tight hug as well. Patty stood uncertain how to proceed but she gave Richie a smile as he looked at her.

“Hi, I’m-“

“Patty!” She was pulled into an all-encompassing hug by Richie and she felt a little overwhelmed as she realized why she recognized him. Stan had used to watch his comedy specials. She had hated them, got the sense Stanley hadn’t exactly enjoyed them either yet he had almost religiously turned them on. It didn’t make a great deal of sense to her that this was Richie Tozier, the comedian who constantly joked about what a nag his girlfriend was, when Stanley had informed her that the two men were together.

“Well, hello,” she said as she returned the embrace after her shock wore off. She felt Richie pull back and Stan was there, arm held out to her to tug her gently closer. He knew she’d feel overwhelmed and was quietly and casually getting her free.

“Patty, the over enthusiastic asshole is Richie and this is Eddie. Two of my best friends.” Patty felt another small surprise at the use of profanity. He rarely used it over the years and it had almost consistently been in frustration rather than this light joking tone he had now. “Guys, this is my wife, Patricia.”

“It’s wonderful to meet you both.”

“It’s great to meet you too, Patty. Stan’s told us a lot about you,” Eddie said as he knocked Richie’s hand away as it ruffled his hair. He gave him a small glare and Patty glanced between the two of them. “Sorry, we’re not ready to go just yet. This idiot can’t focus on a single thing at a time.”

“Forgive me for wanting to make sure that I actually have a show tomorrow night, Spaghetti head.” Richie prodded lightly at Eddie, not seeming to be able to keep his hands to himself. Patty glanced at Stan and he rolled his eyes a little at the two of them as they started to bicker lightly even as they moved out of the way to let them step inside. Stan gently guided her and they found themselves in a room that was even more extravagant than theirs had been.

Richie and Eddie had an actual suite, which made sense given they were living here until Eddie’s divorce was finalized, but she hadn’t expected it to feel so homey. There was a small living space with a kitchen and dining area off to one side. She could see to one side what must have been the bedroom though there were blankets piled up on the couch as well.

“It’s a mess but you know who’s fault that is. I feel like I live with a fucking disaster.” Eddie gave Richie a shove towards the bedroom, pointed at him with a stern look when he seemed like he was going to detour back towards the kitchen instead.

“It’s immersion therapy, Eds. You can’t be a bubble boy forever. A little dirt won’t hurt.” Patty pursed her lips in amusement as Richie walked back towards the bedroom door. Eddie flipped him off and then seemed to come to the realization that Patty was there all over again as he gave her a sheepish look.

“Sorry, Pats.”

“Oh, don’t you fucking worry about it,” Patty said with a soft giggle. Stan gave a snort of amusement along with her, sneaking a kiss to her cheek before he pulled away to look at the spread of papers across the dining table. He couldn’t help himself, wanting to put things in order as he always did.

“I like her.” Eddie said to Stan with a smile as he moved to grab his jacket from a closet tucked off to the side.

“I do too.” Stan glanced up at her for a moment as he circled around to the other side of the table and they shared one of their secret looks. Patty loved when Stan gave her one of those looks; a slightly lopsided smile, gazing at him through his lashes with his curls falling over his forehead. It was one of the looks that had drawn her to him when they’d first met. Just a little bit dangerous like he knew something she didn’t. It was only all the more alluring as time went on, all the better knowing how gentle of a soul Stanley really was. He’d never hurt her.

Well…almost never.

Patty’s eyes unconsciously dropped down to Stan’s wrists as he reached to pick up one of the pages on the table with a soft frown, his focus redirecting to whatever was on the paper. He had tried to leave her, which had hurt. The fact that she knew he hadn’t told her the truth about why hurt as well. Patty hadn’t wanted to bring it up, hadn’t wanted to push, but she knew when Stan was lying to her. She knew when he wasn’t telling her the whole truth and he was keeping something close to his chest about his suicide attempt and this reconnection with old friends.

“Is this some of the financials for the divorce? You know this says she’s keeping most of your money, right?” Stan glanced up at Eddie with a look of concern. Picked up another page to scan over it with a deepening frown. Patty stepped aside a little, feigned some interest in a photo the two had pinned up on the fridge. All seven of them were there; ‘The Losers’ as Stan said they called themselves. They were all sitting on the rocky side of a lake or quarry.

“Yeah, well…honestly, I’m just trying to make it as easy as possible. And besides, she doesn’t work so it’d be that or pay alimony.” Patty glanced back at Eddie as he spoke, felt a small swell of concern at the shift in his tone of voice. As she looked back at the photo, she met Stan’s eyes for a second and saw that concern mirrored there. She didn’t know all of the details but from what Stan had said Eddie’s wife wasn’t kind. She looked at that photo once more, saw the smile on Eddie’s face as he sat tucked under Richie’s arm. One of the others, maybe Ben from how Stan had described them each, had an arm around him as well.

That happiness that was so apparent even then when she knew that Eddie had been recovering from a major injury himself seemed almost an impossible expression on his face at the mention of his ex. It made her sad as she scanned the rest of the faces, all of them so happy together.

“Are you going to be alright with this? Especially with quitting your job?” Stan’s voice dropped a little quieter as Eddie moved to stand with him. Their conversation grew a bit more hushed and Patty tried not to listen too intently. To let them have some privacy.

“Okay, so…that one there, the Columbian soccer player? That’s Ben. The model besides him is Bev who, don’t let looks deceive, she could kick all our asses.” Patty blinked as Richie reached around her, pointing out people in the photo. She hadn’t even realized he’d returned from the bedroom before now. “You know Stan, of course. These two are Bill and Mike. Bill’s a terrible writer and Mike’s a librarian. Clearly, a match made in heaven. Then there’s the two handsome devils on the end. Well, I mean, there’s Eddie at least. Can’t say much about my looks.”

“I think you both grew up to be very handsome,” Patty said softly and watched with amusement as Richie gave an embarrassed sort of laugh. “I look forward to getting a chance to meet all of you. Having you back has made Stan very happy.”

“We’re happy to have him too.”

“You two ready to go?” Eddie caught their attention before pushing a jacket into Richie’s arms.

“Yeah, we were waiting on you two, Losers.” Richie scoffed lightly, gave Patty a wink as he slid into his jacket and followed Eddie towards the door. Stan stepped up next to her, offered her his elbow as he looked quietly at the photo for a second. Patty smiled, felt a warmth in her cheeks as a pleasant blush rose to her face, and she linked their arms together.

“I’m probably going to take some time to help Eddie make a better financial plan after dinner. Are you okay hanging out for a while?”

“Of course,” Patty said with a nod as they stepped out of the small kitchen area to meet the other two at the door of the suite.

“Hey, while you’re doing that do you think that you could look at mine too? I have a feeling I’m going to be firing a certain agent of mine but it might help to know where I actually stand with things before I end up going solo again.” Stan gave Richie a look as he held the door open for them expectantly and gave a wide cheesy smile.

“Rich…do you have any idea what your financial look like at all?”

“Eh, I’ve got money. I know that. Really that’s about all I need to know.” Richie gave a casual shrug as Patty glanced at Stan to see his deadpan look of annoyance. She could see the small smile tugging at his lips though, see the fondness and humor hidden behind his eyes. It had been so long since she’d seen him this happy.

*

Dinner had been a longer affair than they’d planned; one that was full of laughter as Patty sat listening to the other three reminisce and bicker with a familiarity that didn’t seem to match up with the fact that they’d not seen each other for almost thirty years. Patty had observed them, let herself blend in a little to the background as she sipped at her wine. This was a side of Stan she hadn’t really seen before; completely carefree, a bit rougher around the edges than he usually presented himself but absolutely a glow nonetheless.

It made Patty wonder even more what the real reason had been that he’d tried to steal himself away from the world. She wasn’t blind to the fact that the first thing he’d done once he’d been released from the hospital was to go find these friends, the ones she’d only known about in odd conversations where Stan had seemed distant and it was as if they’d been talking about strangers.

Once they’d eaten, they had made their way back to the hotel, a place still lavish enough that it took her breath away slightly to see it. There they’d switched from wine to coffee which worked well to warm her back up from their short stint out in the snow. She was sitting on the couch now, Eddie besides her having gone over his finances some with Stan in hopes of helping him be in a good spot once his divorce was finalized. Stan was over at the dining table with Richie now to follow up on his promise to look over things for him as well before he ‘divorced’ his agent.

“Fuck, Richie, how do you keep track of any of this? It’s a fucking mess.” Stan scowled as Richie just gave a shrug of his shoulders as he leaned over the back of Stan’s chair to look at the computer screen. Patty glanced back at them from over the back of the couch, hands wrapped gingerly around the hot cup of coffee.

“Not my thing. How am I supposed to know what to do with all of this?” Patty glanced towards Eddie as she heard him give a soft snort of amusement at the comment. He met her eyes with an amused look on his face as he shifted carefully on the couch. She had noticed how he favored his right side over the course of the night. Even when they’d been walking down to the restaurant, she had seen how Richie had stuck close to that side of him and Eddie had a few times leaned against him as if feeling a bit weak or pained. Stan had mentioned he’d been injured somehow though hadn’t gone into many details. Patty had assumed it couldn’t have been that serious of an injury but now she wasn’t so certain.

“We were in the same honors math classes together, Rich, I know you’re not as much of a dumbass as you try to act. Please at least tell me that you have someone who does your taxes so I don’t have to worry about you going to jail for tax evasion?”

When Richie rested his chin on the top of Stan’s head he got shooed away and Stan gently kicked a chair out from the table and motioned for him to sit down. It was clear that Richie’s finances were going to take a bit longer to look through than Eddie’s but Patty didn’t mind.

“Yeah, yeah. I pay my taxes, okay? I just…don’t really balance this shit out all the time. As long as I know that I’m not in the red I figure things are good.” Patty raised her eyebrows knowing well enough how Stan would react to that sort of comment. A second later she heard Stan’s exasperated sigh that turned into a soft chuckle and complaint as Richie reached over to mess with his hair.

_So full of life for someone who wanted to die. _

She felt another wave of sadness wash over her at the thought. She wasn’t used to feeling like she didn’t understand Stanley. They had always been so in sync with each other; always aware of the other’s feelings except for the one time it had mattered the most. Patty sighed as she took a sip of her coffee, closing her eyes as she lost herself in the warmth that help chase away that fluttering fear. When she looked up, she realized that Eddie was watching her and it threw her off a little to be the one being observed for once. She gave him a soft smile, wasn’t certain if it was the wine or that sense of familiarity rubbing off on her as she decided to speak her thoughts.

“He’s different with you two. Or, I guess not different, just…more himself than he is with most people.” Patty made sure to keep her voice quiet and soft as she spoke so that Stan wouldn’t hear her. She shifted a little, tucking her legs underneath herself on the couch and facing Eddie a little more fully. Eddie moved a bit too, glanced towards the other two for a second before tucking himself carefully up on the couch as well. There was that extra care taken of his right side once more, a slight wince of pain. It had definitely not been a minor injury then.

“How do you mean?”

Patty glanced towards the table for a second as she tried to think how best to voice when she meant. If anyone would understand what she was getting at it would likely be one of Stan’s friends. One of the Losers he seemed so fond of.

“I always thought I knew him the best. When we first met, I knew there was something about him. He’s an old soul, I guess, and I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Still can’t, to be honest, and the fact that he decided I was worth his time seemed like winning the lottery. I thought I was really the only one that he let in close. That got to see all of him. People have always been drawn to Stan but he tends to keep everyone at arm’s length. I suppose I thought I was the only exception until I saw him with you two…”

Patty trailed off a little as she saw Stan give her a curious look from over the top of the laptop and she gave him a reassuring smile. He smiled back though she knew, Patty knew he could sense that they were talking about something personal. She wasn’t the only observant one in their relationship.

“It seems to me like you know him as well as we do. We might see slightly different sides is all. We, uh…all of us together dealt with some things when we were younger. Things that can be hard to explain if you weren’t there.” Eddie kept his voice quiet and low as well, matched her own and she could hear his uncertainty. He was trying to tread a line, trying to determine just how much she didn’t know in regards to whatever shared trauma they’d experienced as kids. “It’s obvious how much he loves you, ya know?”

Patty gave a soft laugh at the comment, felt endeared by the amount of concern that Eddie seemed to have over whether she truly knew this or not. He was sweet, Eddie, even with his somewhat brash language and impulse to bicker. He cared and was a kind soul.

“Oh, I know. Not to sound conceited but I have no doubt that he loves me. Just as I love him. I just wish I understood-“ Patty stopped herself, felt that fluttering sadness at her throat once more and she took another drink of her coffee in an attempt to chase it away. There was a moment of silence between them as she rested her coffee cup in her lap. Wished she could soak in every bit of warmth it contained to help chase away that sad chill in her heart. The fear that, without understanding why it had happened, that whatever sadness had struck him would come for Stan once more. That she might not be on time, may not realize soon enough how drastically wrong things had gone.

She felt Eddie’s hand rest lightly on her wrist, a gentle touch meant to comfort and she tried to find her smile once more. Knew that it wavered a bit around the edges.

“Have you two talked about what happened?”

It seemed like Eddie was an observant one as well. Patty made a quiet noise that was somewhere between amusement and a sob. She pursed her lips together tightly in surprise, glanced towards the table to see if Stan had heard her. He was frowning at the screen still though she knew that part of him was focused on them. Richie was looking in their direction but dropped his eyes when he realized she was looking back. He wasn’t as good at subtlety.

“We have, some…” Patty set a hand on top of Eddie’s in return, patted it softly as she felt him give her wrist a light squeeze. “I know it’s not because we can’t have kids like he said. We had both come to peace with that, accepted it and had even discussed adoption in the future. He wouldn’t have done it because of that.”

It felt like a relief to voice it out loud even in the hushed tone of secrets. She looked up to meet Eddie’s eyes, could see that sense of guilt. He must never have been able to really hide anything, not with how open and honest his eyes were. She found with most people that the phrase ‘the eyes are the window to the soul’ didn’t quite fit but with Eddie it seemed to.

“If you know that isn’t the truth, why haven’t you asked him?”

“Oh, I…I figure he didn’t tell me the truth for a reason. And I don’t want to push him to talk if he isn’t ready to. I know Stan, he’ll talk to me about what really happened when he’s good and ready. And I’ve never wanted to come across as the overbearing wife…”

“Patty, I know we’ve just met. But I can promise you that you’re incapable of being the overbearing wife. Talk to him, let him know that you want to understand. And if he tells you, listen. Even if it sounds really fucking ridiculous, listen and trust that he’s telling the truth.” Eddie had a hint of something in his voice, something that she for once couldn’t quite read. It was even clearer to her that Stan’s friends knew the truth; that these people who seemed to have apparated out of thin air knew the reasons she had almost lost her Stanley.

She glanced towards Stan, caught his eye once more and gave a nod.

“Alright…I will.” 

*

“What were you and Patty talking about last night?”

Eddie looked up from the dishes from their breakfast as Richie sat at the dining table with his feet propped up on another one of the chairs. He made no effort to stifle the large yawn that dragged itself out of him and Eddie felt a little bit of pity that he had to go out for the day. Patty and Stan had headed back down to their own room rather late last night and it had felt too soon when Richie’s alarm had gone off at seven in the morning.

Eddie felt a bit hesitant to bring up his conversation with Patty while Stan and Richie had been distracted with their attempt at making sense of Richie’s financial accounts. He wasn’t certain he had done the right thing encouraging her to ask Stan about what had happened. The fact that Stan hadn’t wanted to be the weak link that brought them all down in their fight against It wasn’t something that would be easy for others to understand.

“She knows that Stan didn’t tell her the truth about…you know.” Eddie hated saying it, that Stan had tried to kill himself. That he had almost succeeded and that there seemed to be a very real possibility that it was only due to the fact that they had defeated It that had saved him.

“Oh…wow, that’s…” Richie made a grimace as he let his feet drop back down to the floor. “You didn’t tell her, did you?”

“No, coming from me she would have thought I was fucking crazy. I did tell her that she needed to talk to Stan about it though. She’s worried about being ‘overbearing’.” Eddie sighed, hoped that in the end he’d find that he’d done the right thing. Richie gave a snort and Eddie looked up at him with narrowed eyes.

“You have some experience with overbearing wives. I hope you told her she’s got nothing on your soon-to-be ex-mom-wife.” Eddie raised one of his rubber gloved fingers in Richie’s direction though he laughed softly at the comment despite himself. “Is that supposed to be a suggestion, Eds? Thought we were waiting to get down and dirty.”

“You’re disgusting.” Eddie wrinkled his nose, tried not to think of that petri dish of death. “And I did tell her that she’s the furthest thing from overbearing. She’s good for him.”

“Hmm, yeah. Yeah, she is. She’s a peach.” Richie stood up and moved over to stand behind him. Eddie felt Richie’s arms slip around him, hugged around his waist as his chin came to rest on Eddie’s shoulder.

He leaned back against him, making a huff of complaint as Richie rubbed his scruffy cheek against his neck in return. They had maybe gotten a little laxer with their rule that they weren’t going to move forward with their relationship until the divorce was finalized. Part of that was how long it was taking for Myra to finally let that happen. Part of it was that now that they had this chance it was hard not to relish in it some.

Eddie lost himself for a moment as he picked up another glass to lightly scrub out before he added it to the dishwasher. He had been taking the time to clean despite the fact that he knew that housekeeping would take care of it for them if they wanted. He still found a sense of comfort in the act of cleaning though, an easing of that tension that lingered as he waited for Myra to decide she was done drawing this out.

The divorce should have been finalized weeks ago but Myra kept pushing that she felt they could reconcile. Refused the sign the papers that would make him finally free. She had pushed several times for them to meet and talk on their own without the lawyers or Richie. Eddie had refused every single one of these requests; not just because he didn’t want her to try and talk him into staying but also because he was constantly consciously aware of the deadlight visions. That Richie had seen Myra drug him, poison him, whether because she misjudged the dose or intentionally.

“I think I might hire Stan to do accounting shit for me.” Eddie felt Richie’s breath on his neck, cool where he’d just give him a bit of stubble burn. His voice dragged him back out of his chain of thoughts though they continued to leave a sick feeling in his chest. He did his best to distract himself away from it; pressed a little further against Richie.

“You sure he’s going to want to deal with your bullshit all the time?” Eddie reached to set the glass in the top rack of the dish washer while trying to maintain that closeness with Richie. This resulted in them both leaning a bit to the right, Richie moving with him as if sensing that Eddie wanted him to stay close for a bit longer.

“Please, he loved every second of sorting through my shit. It will probably be the most challenging job he’s ever taken on.” Richie spoke against his neck now, lips pressed to his skin just below his ear and Eddie felt a small thrill go through him. He pulled away for just a moment, felt Richie’s noise of disappointment as he turned to face Richie. Eddie leaned up for a moment to place a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth while keeping his still gloved hands held up and out of the way so he didn’t drip any of the dirty dish water on either of them.

“Don’t you have to get ready to go?” Eddie frowned as he carefully worked on removed the gloves as he tried to side step around Richie despite that sense of anxiety still lingering. A knot in his chest that wasn’t entire because of the scar tissue that had formed between his ribs.

“Please, don’t fucking remind me. Couldn’t I just stay home with you? Keep each other warm.” Richie tried to pull him back, trapping Eddie’s wet gloves between them.

“Oh, come the fuck on, jack ass. This water is disgusting. Stop.” Eddie tried to fight back, pushing at Richie as he kept hugging him closer. Eddie flicked some of the water at him, dotting his glasses with it before he finally broke free and could strip the dish gloves off his hands. As he tossed them into the sink to dry Richie caught him up in his arms again and Eddie gave a soft laugh.

“I’m already firing my agent. Can’t I just blow this whole thing off?” Richie whined as he buried his face against Eddie’s neck once more causing his glasses to fumble off and to the floor somewhere behind him. Eddie gave a sigh, gave in a little as he looped his arms around Richie in return and smoothed his hands down along his back. His side ached a little but it wasn’t an ache he could regret just at that moment. Not with Richie blowing against his skin in emphasis; the feel of his arms around him, warm and encompassing.

“You committed yourself to this holiday show bull. If you want to actually tell jokes you _want_ to tell, you better go participate in the table reading or whatever the hell you’re supposed to be doing today.” Eddie pressed a kiss into Richie’s hair as they stood there in the center of what was their temporary kitchen. He’d be glad when they could find something more permanent together.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. You’re going to be okay here on your own for today since Stan and Patty are going over to the Met? I’m sure if you wanted to go with them, they’d be happy to have you.” Eddie shook his head at the suggestion and Richie finally let him go so he could look at him questioningly.

“I don’t want to interrupt their date day, Richie. Besides, we’ll be doing dinner again tonight. I’m probably just going to clean up and get a bit of extra rest.” Eddie honestly would welcome some peace and quiet. A chance to get a little extra sleep even if it was possible. He felt world’s better than he did after he’d first been released from the hospital but his ribs still ached and his breath came up short from time to time. It was worse with the cold.

“Yeah, might not be a bad plan, Spaghetti head. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Richie pressed a kiss to his forehead this time and Eddie smiled before reaching up and giving Richie’s cheek a pat.

“Go get ready.”

“Yes sir. I love it when you’re bossy.”

“Shut the fuck up, idiot.”

*

Patty and Stan had stopped by shortly before Richie headed out just to make sure they knew what time to plan for dinner. After that Eddie had found himself alone in the suite that had seemed quiet and empty around him. He had taken some time to do more of that cleaning, making certain the place was up to specs until he found himself wearing down.

Eddie had eased himself down on the couch after eating a small snack for lunch; knew he had overdone it as what was typically an ache had turned into an active pain in his side now. He closed his eyes for what he thought was just a few moments before he suddenly awoke back up with a start.

He laid there for a few moments trying to pin down what sound or nightmare had woken him up when he heard the knock at the door of the suite. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before pulling himself up as he glanced at his watch. It had been a few hours and Richie must have gotten back only to realize he’d left his keycard behind. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d done it.

Eddie shuffled towards the door, called out to Richie to hold on when he heard him knock once more. The table reading must have gone relatively smoothly if he was back. Either that or Richie had just deciding not to argue on too many points in favor of coming back sooner.

“Next time you forget your keycard, you’re sleep outs-“ Eddie swung the door open expecting to see Richie look back at him sheepishly and instead finding his words trailing off as a cloying anxiety tried to steal his breath away.

“Eddie, we need to talk.” Myra stood on the door step, having somehow managed to get past the front doorman and to their floor.


	5. A little drop of Poison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myra has shown up at the hotel room while Eddie's alone. While Stan and Richie both try to rush back to play interference, Eddie does his best not to cave into old habits of doing as he is told.

“Myra, what are you doing here?” Eddie didn’t think of trying to close the door at first. It slipped his mind entirely in the moment of shock mixed with that instinctive, gut response that he couldn’t be rude, couldn’t be mean or dismissive to Myra. He had played out moments in his head where he’d stand up to her and all that bravado went out the window the second he was faced with her in person; alone. All those trained impulses that he was trying to break came back and before he even fully processed that she was there, Myra had already stepped past him and inside. 

“I told you, Eddie, we need to talk. You’ve been avoiding me, do you know how much that hurts me, Eddie?” 

He hesitated to close the door, had the thought he could just walk out while it was open. Leaving Myra alone in their space didn’t seem like any better of an idea, however. Who knows what she would take the chance to dig through if she had the opportunity? So, Eddie followed her inside instead, left the door unlocked but closed for the moment as he scooped his cell phone up off the counter to try and type out a hasty text to Stan and Richie both. 

“Are you even listening to me?” 

Myra had been saying something as she divulged her belongings into a pile on the counter. Large purse, coast that he’d gotten her for Christmas one year at her request, gloves that she smacked down against the counter now as she spoke making him jump. She had never liked being ignored. Eddie set the phone down instinctively to show he was listening; picked it back up again to make sure he had actually hit send. 

Eddie hated this. Hated how easy it was to fall back into being the meek husband in her presence. It made him feel sick as if all the ailments Myra and Sonia both had spent his entire life convincing him he had descended down upon him in that moment. With it, that daring spark inside of him that encouraged him to tell her to get the fuck out weakened. It caused such a tightness in his chest, a knot of pure panic that threatened to cut off his air, as she gave him an expectantly look. 

“Of course, I’m listening, Myra.” Eddie spoke quietly, glanced back down to the screen of the phone as he felt it vibrate. 

Richie and Stan had both responded within an instant, messages popped up almost instantaneously as Eddie held onto the phone like it was the only thing keeping him steady. When he looked back up at Myra he saw her watching him with a scrutinizing expression that quickly welled up into familiar tears when his focus was back on her. 

“I don’t understand this, Eddie, this isn’t like you. I thought we were happy, I thought you loved me but then you go running off and-and…almost died.” She choked up at the end, a hint of honest emotion in her voice as she gave her head a shake before she turned away.

Eddie stood frozen in place, felt like a deer caught in the headlights of an emotional semi that was going to bear down on him no matter what he did. He wanted to find that part of him that had rehearsed in his head, had rehearsed in swear-scattered rants to Richie, the perfect way to tell her to leave him the fuck alone. Face with that hint of honest emotion threw him off though. It was still the dramatics, the push to make him feel guilty. It made it impossible for him to bring that part of him to the surface to push back as he watched her grab the kettle off the stove to fill it with water. 

To make him tea. 

Whenever she had felt like they needed to talk about some shortcoming on Eddie’s part she had had them sit down for tea. He hated the concoction she made, it was bitter and more than a bit sour; tasted like medicine for reasons that were more apparent now.

Eddie had never liked tea to begin with; had only ever drank it because she’d told him to. Drank it because it was her ritual and it gave him something to do as she wailed about whatever he had done this time to hurt her feelings. To make her disappointed.

As he watched her now, there was an insidious feel to their entire history. Myra had always seemed quiet and meek to people on the outside. Gentle and kind and loving if a bit clingy. It was these moments that Eddie knew shaped their relationship over the years though. The times they were alone and she’d used that same emotional nature to manipulate him. Moments like now, as she silently pulled a small plastic bag from her purse; the loose-leaf tea that she had already carefully measured into small open tea bags. 

“Eddie, sit.” Her voice held that demand, the same demand she’d always used on him when he didn’t respond fast enough to a question or didn’t reciprocate her _I love you_’s. Eddie sat on one of the bar stools that lined up with the counter tops and immediately winced at the fact that he’d impulsively done as he was told. 

“Myra, I already told you what happened in Derry has nothing to do with my decision. I’ve been unhappy for a long time...please don’t cry.” He had heard her soft sob that so frequently followed that demand in her voice. Eddie wince and knew it was just the start of her tears. “This just isn’t something that can be fixed and I’m sorry.” 

Eddie could hear the pleading tone in his voice as she sniffled dramatically. The guilt clenched tight at his heart; that feeling that he was a disappointment and selfish. Scared and incapable of doing what needed to be done. Backed into a thousand corners from the past all at once; unable to escape. 

_Backed into a corner, unable to do anything to help save Richie. _

_Backed into a corner, unable to tell Myra he just wanted to go home at one of her friend’s parties. Couldn’t they just go home?_

_Backed into a corner, suddenly feeling ill and not knowing just what he’d eaten. Obviously something he must have been allergic to. Myra doting on him, making a production about how delicate he was. How she was the only one who knew exactly how to care for him. _

Eddie watched Myra with suspicion as she turned to grab the kettle from the stove top the second it was steaming. He tracked her movements as she took one of those pre-measured bags and set it in the cup before pouring the hot water over it. Didn’t hand it to him immediately but carefully dipped the bag up and down as if ensuring it was brewing thoroughly. 

Of course, he didn’t see her slip anything into it. Whatever she slipped into it had likely been added when she’d mixed the loose-leaf tea. Eddie wondered just what it was she wanted to dose him with. Had likely dosed him with before. Whether it was crushed up pills or drops of some liquid put onto the leaves or even if the tea itself was simply toxic. Wondered how many times where he’d felt ill was because he’d done something to make her feel the need to remind him; put him back in line by making him dependent on her. 

His phone buzzed in his hand and it caused him to jump before he looked down at the screen. 

Eddie glanced at Myra, felt a small paranoia as he tried to type a response that so far he was okay without drawing her focus away from the task of making his tea. 

Stan and Richie’s texts came in almost in tandem. Dual warnings that Eddie was already well aware of. 

“Drink this. And we can talk. You can help me understand this because, Eddie, I don’t understand. You love me, don’t you?” 

Myra set the cup in front of him as she asked the question; eyed his phone when she realized he had it cradled close to his chest and reached across the counter to take it from him. He hit the lock button before she did, made sure the screen was dark so she couldn’t read the warnings from the other two. There was a flicker of expression on her face when she noticed him do it; a calculated look as she turned to set the phone on the other side of the kitchen behind her. 

Separated him from it. 

If she can’t read the texts than neither would he. 

Eddie wrapped his hands around the mug, the warmth seeped into his palms, his fingers numb and cold against the heat. He had no intention of drinking the tea, knew better thanks to Bev and Richie, but he hoped if he acted like he might she wouldn’t push. 

“Eddie. You love me, _don’t you_?” 

“No.” The word came out quiet and meek but it did make it out. Eddie’s hands tightened a little on the mug as he tried to hold onto that sliver of bravery. He hadn’t really ever pushed back too much before. Had bent to her will easily until that day when he’d up and left for Derry. It had been a continuation of being beat down by Sonia. 

_Do what you’re told. It’s for the best._

“What did you just say to me?” He looked up at her, met her shocked expression with trepidation. 

“I’m sorry, Myra, but I don’t. I don’t love you. I haven’t in a while. I honestly don’t know if I ever did. And that’s not fair to you which is part of the reason why I’m doing this. It’s not fair that we continue on with this when it’s not honest and its not healthy.” 

Eddie could feel himself shaking down to the core as he watched her. He was already regretting it, already felt the knife of guilt in his chest that mirrored the spike of a different kind that had been buried in there not that long ago. This felt just as potentially deadly as that had. 

“Eddie._ Kaspbrak_. How can you say such a cruel thing to me?” The tears welled up in Myra’s eyes and Eddie dropped his focus down to the tea in front of him. “Haven’t I given everything to you? Taken care of you when you’re sick? Made sure you were safe? And what am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to do without you? I can’t do this on my own, Eddie, and you’re leaving me behind. What would your mother think, Eddie?”

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut tightly as he felt that wave of guilt and wrongness wash over him. Threaten to pull him under like he’d been caught in a current. Myra moved around the counter, her arms draping over his shoulders as she clung to him. 

He had the impulse to give in, to do just what she said like he always did. It would be easier, faster. He wouldn’t have to feel this dark hole open up inside him. She always knew best, after all. His mother. Myra. They always knew best. 

Eddie did his best to push the thoughts aside, to hold onto those threads of himself he’d found again over the last few months. That’s what it felt like; he was unraveling back to that man who had just done as he was told. Believed he was sick when all the evidence pointed to it not being true. Believed that he owed it to Myra, to his mother, to the only people who would take him. 

Myra wasn’t the only person who would take him though. He had a family now, had his family back. He tapped his fingers on the side of the mug nervously as she started. Tried to guess how long it had been since Richie had said he’d been halfway. Wondered how far Stan was. He glanced towards his phone and wondered how many more messages they’d sent his way. It was more to distract himself than anything else. Remind himself of the person he’d found back in Derry. Down in those sewers. Remember that he’d found who he truly was. 

“I’m really sorry, Myra. I know, I know...it’s my fault and I shouldn’t have let this get where it is. I care about you, I do, but I can’t do this anymore.” 

“And who’s going to take care of you when you get sick? These friends of yours?” There was a sneer in the comment; a heavy handed disbelief that said exactly what Myra thought of that suggestion. 

The thing was that they would though. He knew they would. If Eddie did get sick (he’d knock on wood for that later) but if he _did_; he knew the other Losers would help him out. Make sure he was okay. Richie would take care of him. And_ honestly_ take care of him, not the badgering and controlling that Myra did. That Sonia had done before her. 

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure they will, Myra. You need to leave.” He felt some of that indignant anger that had once spurred him into telling Sonia that he knew his medicine was fake; that they were placebos. That defensive surge that had caused him to push back and say he was still going to be friends with the Losers; had let her know he knew she was full of bullshit. 

Eddie tried to shrug Myra off of him as her arms continued to cling around his shoulders. He pushed the mug of tea away from him, to the other side of the counter to put distance as he ducked down to try and get out of her hold. She persisted, as she always did, knowing that he wouldn’t use force. It was suffocating, nerve-wracking as he tried to slip away. 

“They don’t know what to do if you have an allergic reaction, Eddie, they don’t know like I do; how to make sure you stay healthy and safe. Look at what happened while you were in Derry, look how close you came to dying without me there to take care of you. I’ve done nothing but love you, nothing but take care of you and now you won’t even talk to me.” 

“Myra, please.”

“And look, you haven’t even touched the tea I made for you. You always used to love my tea!” Eddie managed to stand up but she was still close, cloyingly close as the tears sprung up once more. She finally backed off of him, moved to pull the mug back across the counter to her. She picked it up and offered it to him. “Won’t you at least sit down and try to explain to me while you have some tea?” 

“I don’t want to drink the tea, Myra.”

Eddie would have normally agreed. Would have sat down and at least attempted to get her to understand. If it wasn’t for the fact that he knew the tea was designed to make him sick. That it would be too much and end up killing him. He didn’t understand what her hope was here; that he’d drink the tea and get sick only to realize that she was the only one who could take care of him? Or was she just upset enough that making him sick one last time would feel like some sort of retribution to her? 

“Then why did you let me make it for you if you didn’t want any?” Myra asked the question sounding exasperated as she set it down on the counter in front of him a bit harder than she likely had intended. 

“Eddie?” They both stopped where they were, froze in place for a moment at the sound of Stan’s cautious voice. Eddie turned to find him and Patty standing in the doorway; Patty’s lips pressed into a worried line as Stan seemed to size up the situation. 

“Are you going to introduce me to your friends, Eddie?” Myra’s tone had gone sweet once more at the sudden appearance of more people. Stan gave Eddie a questioning look, a check in to make sure that he was okay. That things hadn’t gotten out of hand before they’d gotten there. He tried to shake off some of the nerves now that he knew it wasn’t just Myra and him on their own. 

“Myra, this is Stan and Patty. Guys, this is Myra.”

“His wife.” 

“Ex. Ex-wife.” Eddie corrected her with a frustrated glance. Granted, it wasn’t official yet since she was still refusing to sign the papers but it was what he considered the truth. 

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Myra. Is that tea you’ve made?” Patty smiled graciously, seemed to try and smooth over the general mood of the room as she unwrapped her scarf. She moved to join them in the kitchen, a reassuring hand on Eddie’s arm as she passed that he knew Myra would have noticed. “Should we make enough for everyone?” 

“I’m afraid it’s a blend I brought from home specifically for Eddie. It’s his favorite, you see, but I don’t have anymore.” Myra seemed to pull the mug back from Patty when she reached for it, almost protective over it as she pushed it towards Eddie a little more. As if she thought he’d forget himself and take a sip in front of company. 

“Well, I’m sure there’s some tea here somewhere. Maybe we can all have a cup.” Eddie gave Stan a look for the suggestion as he came to stand beside him. “I’d love to try whatever blend you brought though, Myra. While you’re here, maybe we can talk about some of the details on the divorce. I’m an accountant and I’ve been helping Eddie get a bit of a plan together. I could do the same for you. I know it’s a big change to go through.” 

Eddie gave him a look at the suggestion that he take the tea Myra had prepared. Stan knew just like he did that the tea likely wasn’t just tea. Wasn’t just a harmless cup of earl grey. 

“I’m sure Eddie would rather drink-”

“Why don’t you go ahead and drink the tea, Myra?” Richie had apparently heard enough of the conversation as he approached the hotel room to comment as he interrupted. He seemed slightly out of breath as if he’d run part of the way there. He had an expression of relief on his face as he saw that Eddie wasn’t alone with Myra anymore. 

The suggestion seemed to catch Myra off guard as she glanced down at the mug and gave a shake of her head. She smiled sweetly at them, seemed less certain now that there were three other pairs of eyes in the room. 

“I’m good with some of the hotel tea. I have plenty of the blend back at home to drink later. And you are?” 

“Richie. Eddie’s very very good friend. Hell, you might even say we’re friends with benefits.” Richie said it like it was a joke but Eddie could see a reckless spark in his eyes. Myra frowned at the wording, glanced between them before she gave a soft put upon laugh. 

“Richie, why don’t you and Eddie go check to see if there’s any coffee or tea in the other room? I don’t seem to see any of the tea bags out here and if I remember right from Stan’s and my room; there was a small tray in the bedroom with some.” Patty gave him a soft look, a knowing expression that said this was his chance to distance himself. That Patty and Stan would take care of this situation. Eddie glanced towards Myra nervously as if he needed permission. 

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll go check.” Eddie grabbed Richie’s wrist to tug him along with him. He knew that they needed some distance, he needed some distances and he needed to make sure that Richie wasn’t going to decide that downing the tea was the best way to handle this situation. 

“Should make her drink that damn tea.” Richie mumbled the words as they moved into the bedroom off to the side. Eddie took a deep breath, stopped once they were in the middle of the room and looked back towards the door. 

“No, Rich, we just need to get her to leave. Hell…” Eddie worried at the edge of his thumbnail as he sat on the edge of the bed. He was starting to doubt himself. Doubt that the situation had been as bad as it had seemed to him. The tea might have just been tea. It might have just been paranoia because of Bev and Richie’s deadlights visions. Maybe he did owe it to Myra to talk to her. 

Richie watched him for a second before he sat down next to him. Eddie crossed his arms tightly, tried to ease some of the fluttering nerves that danced throughout his chest. 

“Hey, are you okay? You didn’t drink any of the tea, right?” 

“No, I didn’t drink any of the fucking tea, Richie.” Eddie’s voice lacked any real heat to it as he laid down on the bed instead. Richie followed him on this track as well, laid down so they both stared up at the ceiling as the sound of voices carried in from the other room. “I’m being an asshole. I should have just talked with her; tried to get her to understand.” 

“She’s literally trying to poison you, Eds, I don’t think you’re the asshole here.” 

“We don’t fucking know that for sure.” Eddie pressed the heel of his hands against his eyes, tried to block out that sickening feeling like he’d made some terminal error. Something he should feel terrible for; that made him a terrible person. 

“Yeah, Eddie, we do. _I _do.” Richie spoke quietly and Eddie turned his head to look at him. Found that Richie was still staring up at the ceiling with a frown on his face. “She’s upset you’re leaving. Doesn’t account for the fact that you lost weight during your recovery mixed with a heavy hand because she’s angry you’re leaving her. She might be doing it cause she’s sad, upset, confused or what the fuck ever but she still is the one that makes the choice to do it. What would have been unfair, what would have made you an asshole is if you hadn’t left her and instead just ghosted on her.”

“You mean like you suggested.” Eddie raised an eyebrow because Richie had suggested that. Had made a joke about it more than once that Eddie could just disappear and they could all tell Myra he died or something. 

“Well, I am an asshole.” Richie gave a shrug and finally turned his head to look at him. “You scared me. You stopped responding.” 

“She took my phone; set it aside because she was annoyed that I was distracted by it.” Eddie glanced towards the door when he heard Myra’s voice come a bit louder from the other room. “Maybe I should go-”

“Maybe you should just stay here. I’m pretty sure Patty and Stan can handle getting her to leave.” Richie cut him short with a shake of his head. He held a hand up between them, an offer for Eddie to take it without making any demands. 

Eddie took the offer and laced their hands together. 

*

Stan watched Eddie and Richie retreat into the bedroom with a soft frown before he moved to join Patty behind the counter where she moved through the actions of starting the kettle. They were going to have to have a conversation once this was past; once Myra was gone. He had tried to explain in an indirect way; why they were worried about Eddie; why they felt it was important to get back to him. Had told her that they’d found out that she’d been drugging him to make him sick but kept it vague where that information had come from.

He glanced at the offending cup of tea and shifted to move it further away. He saw Myra watch him, kept her eyes on the cup as if she was afraid of losing track of it. What he assumed was Myra’s purse was sitting on the counter and as he set the cup aside, he noted that there was another plastic bag full of loose-leaf tea peeking out of the top despite what she had claimed. 

“So, Myra, did Eddie invite you over? I don’t remember him saying he was going to see you.” Patty spoke in a casual tone, light and friendly, but he was able to tell it was put on. He moved to grab some more mugs down for her as she got the kettle heating on the stove top. Stan made sure that he kept them away from the cooling cup that had already been made. 

“I was hoping to get a chance to talk. He has been avoiding me since he filed for divorce,” Myra said sounding forlorn. “I just was hoping to understand what I did wrong.” 

“Oh, I don’t know if it’s that anyone did something wrong specifically. It’s possible that the two of you have just grown apart and he wants to give you both a chance at something better.” They didn’t need to discuss to know that the best plan here was to kill this situation with kindness. Patty always credited Stan with knowing how to handle situations but he knew she was just as adept at handling them herself. 

“No, we didn’t just grow apart. Whatever happened with you people in Derry is to blame. He got hurt and almost didn’t make it and now he says he doesn’t want to come home but I don’t believe that. He needs to come home; no one takes better care of him than I do. Eddie needs someone who knows what to do if he falls ill. He’s so delicate.” 

Myra voiced was heavy with tears as she shot Stan a look like he was personally responsible for all of this. Stan rolled his eyes, leaned against the counter as he crossed his arms and leveled a look right back at her. Patty paused as she opened a cabinet in her search for the tea despite knowing exactly where it would be. She stood still for just a moment long enough that Stan noticed it before she gave a soft exclamation of discovery as she pulled the box of tea down. 

“It’s odd that you say that. He so far has been completely healthy since he left the hospital in Derry. You would think that after a serious injury like that that someone with such a delicate disposition would be struggling with their health.” Patty set the box of tea down on the counter before she turned to give Myra an innocent look. Stan could hear the tone in her voice though as she waited for whatever Myra’s rebuttal would be. 

“You didn’t know him before. He looks terrible, so gaunt and sickly compared to how he used to look. I should go tell them that you found the tea.” Myra moved to get up to find Eddie and Richie. Stan had no doubt that they were just sitting in the bedroom, would stay there to pass the time until she was gone or their presence was requested once more. 

“Oh, I’m sure they’ll be back out here in a moment. I doubt he’d want to miss out on having some of your delicious tea. What exactly is in it, may I ask?” Stan spoke up this time, gave her a smile as he moved to grab the cup of tea. The bag was still sitting in the water turning it dark and bitter looking as time went on. He picked it up and gave it a curious look and she seemed suddenly less keen on going to retrieve Eddie. 

“It just...some green tea with a bit of ginger, mint and fennel. It’s always helped Eddie when he gets sick to recover faster.” 

“It’s so dark for a green tea. I’m afraid it might be getting over-brewed. Maybe we can make Eddie a cup of the earl grey instead since this will probably have gone cold? I’m sorry to waste the tea you spent time on blending.” 

Stan dipped the bag a few times but anything that had been added in with the leaves had full dissolved. He didn’t wait for an answer as he turned and dumped the tea down the sink. Turned on the faucet to let it wash away even as he heard the mild protest from Myra. With it gone, he could rest a little easier. 

“I wouldn’t have pegged you as being someone who puts stock in natural remedies, Myra. Given how many ailments it sounds like Eddie has had it must have been so difficult on you.” Patty stepped carefully around him to lift the kettle, a hand on his back that let him know she was there, and she made a point of grabbing a new mug down to replace the drugged tea he’d just dumped. 

“It has been very difficult but I wouldn’t change it for the world. I love him, he’s my Eddie and I wouldn’t trust anyone else to take care of him. I’ve always had to vet the sort of medication or remedies he tried to make sure they were safe. The tea seems to be one that helps. One cup of that and he typically sleeps like a baby and wakes up feeling on the mend.”

“Oh, I’m sure. That’s so wonderfully kind of you. And I know that if it were me, I’d worry so much if Stan had to take as much medication as poor Eddie does. It’s a wonder you can keep track of it all. Especially given how careful you have to be. A little too much, a little miscalculation or mixing the wrong things together and you can undo all the good benefits the medicine might have.” 

“It’s such a thin line to tread, don’t you think? Balancing an appropriate dosage over time so you don’t end up causing an overdose?” Stan smiled as he said it and Patty mirrored his expectant look. He saw Myra blanch a little under the comment but she tried to smile. 

“Well, of course, I’ve always been very careful.” 

“I’m sure you have. Always very careful. You wouldn’t want to make him sicker, now would you?” Patty had a little hint of edge in her voice that Stan rarely heard. He glanced at her, felt proud of her as she kept that placid look on her face even as Myra looked even less comfortable with the thread of the conversation. She poured the hot water into each of the mugs before lifting one up. 

“No, of course not. Are you trying to imply-” Myra’s voice had risen in volume a little as she gave an offended scoff. 

“I think we all know what’s being implied here. You just want to make sure that Eddie’s taken care of.” Patty smiled, set the mug of tea down in front of Myra a bit rougher than expected. “I hope you don’t mind. I reused the cup you’d used for Eddie’s tea. No reason to dirty another.” 

Stan dropped his eyes down to the floor as he saw Myra eye the mug with a look of suspicion. It was a lie but Patty had played it off without a single tell in her disposition. Stan used the moment of distraction between them to reach and take a couple of the tea bags from her purse. 

“If you are insinuating I would ever do anything to hurt my Eddie.” Myra wasn’t yelling precisely but there was an edge in her voice that seemed to teeter between anger and insult. She pushed the mug away from her as she stood and turned towards the bedroom. “Eddie!” 

“I’m pretty sure we’re doing just that though he’s not yours. If you want some advice, Myra, I think you should leave. I think you should sign the divorce papers and leave him alone.” Stan tucked the tea bags carefully aside, out of the way so that they wouldn’t be visible but also didn’t run the risk of getting mixed in with anything else. 

“You do not get to tell me how to handle my own relationship with my husband. Something is clearly wrong you, you people have clearly done something to him to make him decide not to come home. He’s sick and you have just made it worse. He’s clearly not in the right frame of mind and he will be coming with me. Eddie, we’re leaving!” 

The slightly demure demeanor that Myra had kept around her until now slipped away as she gave Stan a pointed look for the comment. He raised his eyebrows in response to her raised voice, felt a small smile come to his lips. It wasn’t that it was amusing but that it felt honest and that it felt familiar. She had made the demand with such confidence like there was no question that Eddie was going to come back out of the bedroom to go with her. 

Stan glanced towards Patty and saw the look on her face. He reached a hand out for her and linked their fingers together naturally. He had seen that look only twice before; once, when she’d had a student she had suspected of being abused. The second had been when he’d woken up in the hospital after his attempted suicide. It was concern and sadness and such a fierce defensiveness beneath it all. 

“Eddie!” Myra called again when her initial call was ignored. 

“He isn’t going with you.” 

Patty spoke up with more strength in her voice. She gave Stan’s hand a light squeeze before she pulled away and moved to start to gather up Myra’s things on the end of the counter. Picked up the coat and gloves, paused when she moved to grab the purse only to see the tea and Stan just gave a soft tilt of his head to indicate he’d seen the tea himself when she glanced his way. 

“Here are your things. Leave. If you truly care about him the way you claim; let him go. Let him be happy. He isn’t yours to stifle and hold.” Patty grabbed up the purse and held the entire bundle out to Myra who looked shocked at the treatment. She took her things but stood her ground as she switched back to tears. These tears at least felt honest. Less put on for a show and more actual emotion welling up from inside. 

“He was happy with _me._” 

“From what I’ve seen, Myra, he wasn’t.” Patty shook her head and stood in place even when Myra seemed to step into her space. There were a few moments, Stan took his weight off the counter as he waited in case he needed to move to separate them. He understood that Myra wasn’t Tom, didn’t use her fists to get her way, but there was still a protective twist at the thought she might lash out at Patty. 

“This isn’t over.” 

“It is. Go home. Sign the papers. Stay away.” Stan motioned towards the door as he spoke Rather than lash out, Myra let the tears fall dramatic as she turned to stomp her way to leave. Patty’s arm slipped around his waist as she moved back to join him once more, the two of them formed a front line as they trailed after her. A front that would keep her from trying to loop back around. 

Myra turned at one point as if she was going to say something else. Stan just smiled, could see the tense smile come to Patty’s face as well beside him, and it seemed that whatever Myra saw there between the two of them was enough to dissuade it as she finally turned and left in a flurry. 

“Stanley?” Patty spoke quietly after the door had slammed closed behind Myra. She leaned into him and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Grateful that he had her. Grateful that he was still there with her. 

“Yes, my dove?” He kept his voice low, got the sense whatever question hung in the air at that moment was a private one. She looked at him, concern and worry on her face as she seemed to debate asking what was on her mind. She’d done this a few times since he’d gone home from Derry. Stan knew what the question was but hadn’t felt ready to try and explain. Wasn’t certain what Patty would think if he told the truth. 

“I love you.” Patty shook her head softly, dismissed the question before cupping his cheeks in her hands and kissing him. Stan held onto her tightly, hugged her close to him and settled on it in the back of his mind. 

Patty deserved the truth. And Stan trusted her to listen and believe him when he told it to her. 

*

Richie had wrapped his arms around Eddie when they heard Myra shouting for him to come and leave with her. It had been both to keep Eddie from going out into the other room and to keep himself from going out there to chew her out. In the end, they heard her leave and a few moments later Stan had come into the room to unceremoniously flop down onto the bed on top of them. 

“Oof, Jesus, Stan, where did you become a brick?” Richie complained even as they shifted so he could be sandwiched between the two of them. Stan the Man had helped save the day. The bed shifted again and he turned his head to see Patty sitting there next to them. She looked a bit awkward as if she wasn’t certain how she fit into this tight knit group. 

“Get in on this, Pats. From the sounds of it you kicked ass.” Richie said as he shifted to make some room. Eddie reached for her at the same time and he saw the light flush come to her face before she took his offered hand and shifted to lie down with the rest of them. Richie did his best to wrap his arms around all of them, hugged them tightly together. 

“My wife is a superhero.” Stan spoke up as he pressed a kiss to Patty’s cheek. She gave a quiet, please giggle as she settled there. The Losers club had another member as far as Richie was concerned.

“Thank you both. I just...I thought I’d be able to stand up to her a bit easier now but I was wrong.” Eddie spoke up from the other side of the pile. Richie sighed as he closed his eyes, felt some of his anger drain out of him into fatigue. He felt fortunate that Stan and Patty had stepped in. Richie wasn’t entirely certain if he would have really pushed for Myra to drink the laced tea or not. 

“I want you all to know this isn’t the most people I’ve been in bed with at one time but it’s pretty damn close.” Richie spoke up as he gave Stan a messy kiss on his temple. Stan gave a groan and batted at him away, moved to sit up and help Patty to do the same so they could climb back off the bed. 

“You always have to fucking ruin things, don’t you, asshole?” Eddie gave him a smack on the arm, soft and playful before he pulled away as well to leave Richie lying there on his own. 

“I don’t think your body pillows count as people, Tozier.” Stan said as he offered Eddie his hands to help him get up off the bed. Stan pulled him into a tight hug the second he was on his feet and Richie watched them for a moment with a soft smile. That was three of them. 

Three who should be safe though Richie wasn’t going to relax about Myra until they finally had the divorce finalized and some real distance between them. But it seemed like the moment he’d seen in the deadlights had passed for him. Now they just had four to worry about in the future. 

“Stan, they do count because I’ve had custom made pillow cases with each of you on them made. I have the entire Losers clubs around me every night back home. I’ll have to order one of Patty now that she’s officially a member of the group.” 

“Oh, please...you really don’t have to do that,” Patty said with a laugh. She still helped him up off the bed as Stan flipped him the bird from over her shoulder.


	6. A Sense of Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill, Mike and Audra get the news that Eddie should be safe. Bill gets reprimanded for choosing some questionable places to try and get work done while they're on set for his latest movie adaptation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bill can have a little comfort...as a treat?

Bill had found a place to sit in silence in one of the sets that wasn’t going to be used that day. It was an old hotel hallway, made to look abandoned and dim which was perfect. The filming had been going horrible all day, the set plagued with malfunctions and the actors flubbing their lines. All Bill wanted to do was have some peace and quiet for a while and go over the scenes for the upcoming days to make any last-minute changes that were needed. 

There had been a lot of changes. It was one of his earlier novels, one of the ones with the ‘bad endings’ as everyone apparently thought. He could see some of it now but that didn’t necessarily take away any of the sting of it. 

Bill sighed as he massaged his temple to try and combat the migraine that had slowly taken hold throughout the day. At least he had Audra and Mike here with him. They served as some sort of buffer to the demands of the producers who had their own specific vision for everything. 

He paused as he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and Bill debated on ignoring it. It was probably just another note about where they wanted to add some extra gore. That was all they ever seemed to want was to throw more blood at the problem. Cover up the mistakes by adding an arterial spurt. He frowned as he started down at the page, realized it wouldn’t settle right in his chest to ignore it because he knew damn well what else it could be. 

A text he definitely didn’t want to miss until it was too late.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and felt his stomach drop a little at the sight of Stan’s name. It wasn’t a text but a missed call. It could be as simple as Stan wanting to call and say hi but Bill hadn’t been able to take a single phone call or text from any of the Losers without that high spike of anxiety. That fear that somehow, they’d lost one of their own and that somehow it would be Bill’s fault because he wasn’t there. 

He unlocked his phone to stare at Stan’s name in the missed call log; waited for a message that he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear. He nearly jumped when it came through in the form of a text message instead of a voicemail. 

Bill felt a combination of emotions as he read the text over to make sure he hadn’t misunderstood it. If Stan was saying that Eddie was safe; that meant something had happened. He tried to swallow down the icy fear that had frosted through his veins along with the chaser of relief that followed on its heels. 

He dialed Stan’s phone only to get dead air and then the three beeps that signaled the call had ended. Bill cursed as he looked at his reception, realized he barely had any as it was. That would be why his phone hadn’t rung when Stan called but he must have had enough for the text to get through. He typed out a quick response that he was sorry he’d missed his call. Tried to think of somewhere he could go to find enough reception to try him back and hear the full story. 

He had stood up with the intent of going upwards, maybe to the roof where people snuck away to smoke despite all the signs saying not to, when he heard the heavy door to the set open up. A few seconds later Mike appeared around camera setup; a slow smile came to his when they saw each other. 

“Audra said I might find you down here. She wanted to come look for you herself but they pulled her for another scene. You get Stan’s message?” Mike motioned for him to sit back down and Bill did almost immediately. 

“I got his t-text, yeah. I don’t have enough service here to take his call. D-did he get a hold of you?” When he’d brought Mike back home with him it had been a bit of an adjustment. Took a little time for Audra and Mike to get to know each other and more than just a few discussions of where they all thought this might go. Despite their agreement, Bill hadn’t been entirely certain if Audra would be okay with it all. He had wanted them to all be open with each other about it though. 

And then he’d walked in on the two of them one afternoon a few weeks in and found them talking with ease. Laughing at some joke they’d shared between them as Audra leaned in to toy with Mike’s shirt collar. It had eased that tension for him at that moment; was a reassurance that this might end okay and he wouldn’t be ruining his relationships with both of them. 

Because, in the end, Mike fit with them well. The three of them had formed a comfortable domestic unit over the last few months with Mike traveling with them while working remotely with a digital archive. They’d grown practically inseparable and Mike and Audra had joined together to tease Bill endlessly in a kind-hearted and flirtatious way. Things had been good and Bill hated that part of him that knew there was still a threat it might be stolen from them. 

“He did. Myra apparently showed up when Eddie was at home alone; invited herself in to make ‘tea’ for him. Stan, Patty and Richie got there quick and got her to leave. Stan said it was pretty clear it wasn’t just tea that she’d put in his cup. He’s got a couple of the bags she’d brought with her to see if they can find a place that will test it. See just what she was trying to slip to him. By the sounds of it, she’d likely given it to him before.”

Mike sat down beside him, his arm going around Bill’s shoulders in a way that felt well practiced. Like they’d been doing it for years instead of months. Bill leaned into it, took comfort in it while they were on their own. To avoid the worst of the possible rumors, they’d been a bit careful in how much affection they showed when others were around. It was a pain in the ass in Bill’s opinion but he fully supported not putting Mike in that spotlight. 

“S-shit. That’s...a lot to take in. I’m happy Eddie’s okay and I guess that means three of us are ‘safe’ now.” Bill still wasn’t entirely convinced they would be safe after this but both Stan and Bev had been fine this far. It was a relief to know that Eddie was safe; losing any of them would be a devastating blow. More than Bill felt they could take as a group at this point. He knew well enough that if Eddie hadn’t come out of his own deadlight encounters it could quickly send Richie down a spiral. 

He glanced up at Mike for a moment with a tense fear in his heart and far more understanding than he wished for. He’d still have Audra if something were to happen but Mike was a piece of his heart from long ago. He may not have realized that piece belonged to Mike until they had all returned to Derry but part of him had always been aware of it. Aware that there was someone out there that had a part of him and always would. 

“Yeah, Stan said now that the initial relief has faded a bit that he could it was setting in on Richie and Eddie. He’d sent them off for the night. Honestly, I think Stan’s more shook up than he thinks by the sound of it. It’s good that Patty is there with him.” 

Mike pressed a kiss to Bill’s temple; hugged him a bit closer as he sighed. They both froze a little when they heard the footsteps of someone coming onto the set with them. They shifted to pull away just a bit only to relax when Audra was the one that came into view around the camera setup. 

“There are my two boys. Here I thought maybe you’d had enough of this cursed day and had gone home without me.” Audra was in a tank and sweatpants that she, as always, made look fashionable somehow even with the intentionally placed mud and blood stains. She moved to sit down, wiggled her way between them so they were all crammed closely together. Mike’s arm switched to being around her shoulders but Bill still felt his hand toying with the hair at the back of his neck. 

“I thought you were filming the scene at the sheriff’s office?” Bill slipped his arm around her waist, hooked a finger through one of Mike’s belt loops so they all stayed linked together. 

“Randy fucked up his lines again and Leo about lost his shit so pretty much everyone decided it was a good idea to just call a break for a couple hours. I think we just need to call it a fucking day. Everything that can go wrong has.” Audra shifted a little so she could manage to slip the shoes she was wearing off. “What are you two doing down here in this creepy ass place?” 

“Don’t ask me. Bill’s the one that decided it was the best place to sit for script revisions,” Mike said with a joking sense of criticism in his voice. Bill rolled his eyes a little as he gave Mike the bird. 

“You realize that this is probably the worst place for you to have decided to work, right?” Audra gave him a look that was actually critical. She knew; she hadn’t completely understood everything and it had taken both of them to convince her it was real. That some of the things Bill drew from when he wrote his stories had an actual foundation of truth to them. In the end, she had believed them and was just as determined to make sure nothing happened to either of them as they were. 

“We’re not doing any f-f-filming here until next week. We don’t even have the tanks filled yet and there’s s-safety mechanisms in place. Honestly, this is probably the safest spot right now.” Audra raised an eyebrow at him as she tilted her head just a little in clear disagreement. Even Mike was frowning at him and Bill sighed as he leaned back against the wall. 

“She’s got a point, Bill. Usually does. Eddie’s close call should be a reminder that we need to be a bit careful. We don’t know when these things are going to happen.” 

“Wait, Eddie’s close call? Did something happen with Eddie?” Audra looked between the two of them with express concern. 

“I got a call from Stan while you were on set.” 

“M-Myra showed up but the others got there in time before anything could happen. He should be safe now but it sounds like it was close,” Bill finished for Mike as he pressed a kiss against Audra’s temple. Maybe there was some basis for them being concerned about his choice of on-set office. 

“Oh god, I’m glad to hear he’s okay. But that just proves the point even more, Bill, you need to find somewhere else to work while on set.” Audra sat up a little, pulled away from them both so she could turn to face him. 

“F-fine, I won’t sit down here to work anymore. I just needed somewhere quiet to try and focus. I don’t get what they want me to do with the ending of this one.” Bill pinched the bridge of his nose for a second as he picked up the script from the bench beside him. He could see it now that it was a bit of a mess but he had no real idea how to fix it to the producer’s satisfaction. 

“Here, let me take a look at it.” Mike held out his hand to take the script from him and Bill handed it over. Audra gave him a pointed look then, a reiteration that she wasn’t happy with him being down there on his own. He knew she had a point, if he was supposed to drown then being on the one part of the set that floods wasn’t the best idea. It had just been the only place he could get some damn quiet while being close at hand in case anything else came up he needed to help with. 

“Anywhere other than the part of the one set room designed to flood. That’s all I’m asking.” Audra tapped him lightly on the tip of his nose before she leaned in to give him a kiss. Bill fought against the impulse to cup her cheek or to run his hand through her hair; knew that if he messed up any of the styling for the scene she was working on that it’d spell even more time wasted so that they could fix it back to consistency. 

He leaned into it though for a few seconds, hugged her a little closer to him with an arm around her waist. When they separated, Mike was watching them with a fond smile on his lips before he looked back down at the script and squinted to try and read it. He must not have had his reading glasses on him because he was clearly struggling as he tried to find the right distance to be able to read the words on the page. 

“I will sit anywhere but the set designed to flood from now on, I promise.” 

“Good.” Audra gave a soft nod of her head before resting her head against his shoulder. She pulled her legs up onto the bench and carefully stretched them out over Mike’s lap as he continued to squint at the page. Bill reached over to gently snatch it back out of his hands, tugged at it until Mike relented and let him take it back. 

“We’ll go up to the trailer so you can get your glasses. Then you can help me figure out how to make the ending ‘less boring’.” Bill sighed as he rolled the script up and patted Mike on the shoulder with it lightly. 

“I probably have to head back up. Make sure there’s still a leading man to this film if Leo hasn’t murdered Randy yet. You’d think chasing someone around with an ax wouldn’t be just a difficult thing to get right.”

Audra made no move to get up as she talked; Bill saw her close her eyes instead as she settled more into place and he shared a fond smile with Mike. 

“You’re clearly very concerned,” Mike teased softly. Audra gave a non-committal shrug; didn’t bother to open her eyes as she nudged him with her foot. A moment later, Bill’s phone chimed and Mike’s quickly followed afterwards with dual messages asking them to tell Audra to return to set if she was with either of them. 

“Your presence is being requested, babe.” Bill handed Audra his phone so she could see the message from Leo who seemed rather desperate for her to get back to set. Audra frowned at the phone for a moment before taking a deep breath and popping up from the bench. 

“Do I still look ready for my terrified close-up, darlings?” Audra held her arms out to her side as she motioned at herself. She looked like a mess; still gorgeous but a purposeful mess for the scenes they were shooting. 

“Immaculate.” Mike gave her a wink as he stood up and the two of them offered Bill a hand each to help pull him up. Staying was clearly not an option but that was likely for the better. Bill tucked the script under his arm before taking their hands and letting them work a little at dragging him up off the bench. 

*

“Are you doing alright, Bill?” 

They were tucked away in the trailer now; the two of them curled up together on the bed that sat near the back for on the set naps. Audra had gone back to set and would likely be there for the most of the day since they’d need to finish up the scenes to be on schedule. Bill’s head rested on Mike’s stomach as he looked up at the sound of his voice. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Are you doing okay?” Bill frowned softly as he tried to figure out what Mike was thinking. He had his reading glasses on as he’d written suggestions on the script to try and help him figure out just what to change. 

“Yeah, just...I wish there had been a way to avoid all this. Maybe if I had just not called you all back to Derry or if I’d been able to piece together that we needed to make It feel weak to defeat it.” Mike set the script aside as he slid his glasses off. Bill had been able to tell he’d felt guilty ever since Derry. There were things that he could have done better then; things both of them could have done better. In the end though, all of this was the fault of one dead clown who potentially came from space. 

“This isn’t your fault, Mike. None of it ever was and this whole mess with the d-deadlights isn’t your fault either. You were doing what you believed was best and getting rid of It was for the best. You know that, right?” Bill lifted a hand to tug at the fabric of Mike’s flannel, traced down along the hem and pressed the buttons between his knuckles as he came across them. He watched Mike’s face, his eyes going to his lips when Mike’s tongue darted out to dampen them. 

“I guess it’s just kind of setting in. Stan had already come out of his deadlights fate before we even knew there was the chance we were all still in danger from them. I think we had all assumed that Bev needed to not go back to Tom no matter what so the fact he tried shit wasn’t a surprise. But this with Eddie, the fact that it’s like all the pieces fell into place for what could have been it. Makes it feel a little more real.” 

Bill wished he could ease Mike’s mind. He couldn’t imagine what it had been like to be the only one to stay behind. To have taken so much responsibility on his shoulders and knowing that day he had to call them all back would happen eventually. Because some part of them had all known when they were young; they wouldn’t have made the pact if they hadn’t. 

“That’s why we have the plan. Y-you’re not going to be the only one shouldering the burden of this one, Mikey. We’re going to have each other’s backs.” 

Bill felt Mike’s hand smooth over his hair as a slow, easy smile came to his face. He felt that swell of adoration once more; had felt it every time Mike gave him one of those looks. Became overwhelmed with it when all three of them were curled up close together. He wished he could chase all their problems away so that it could just be this; small moments spent together in general peace. 

“I know. It’s hard to switch off that need for research and preparation though. And some people need to stop putting themselves in the direct sort of situations that could land them in trouble.” 

Bill rolled his eyes a little as Mike leveled a pointed look at him. It wasn’t like he was intentionally putting himself in the wrong place; it wasn’t like when he’d gone after It on his own which still had a lot of fall out that Bill wasn’t quite ready to deal with. Even now he felt his stomach drop at the thought of the kid he couldn’t save. The kid in the Funhouse. Georgie. He understood they weren’t his fault, just like it wasn’t Mike’s fault that they’d all been put in this line of danger once again. 

He pulled away from those thoughts though as he sighed and shifted to sit up. Mike watched him move and Bill tried to avoid his eyes for a few seconds. He wasn’t back in Derry running into the Funhouse again; he was here and Bill just desperately needed some peace and quiet. He’d always hated this aspect of everything the most. Days spent on set, crowded with crew and actors and demanding directors. He wasn’t even the one on camera but it drove him crazy. He always ended up wanting to scoop Audra back and go back to the tranquility of their home. Now he wished he could do the same with Audra and Mike both. 

“You know I’m not t-trying to put myself in danger, right?” Bill leaned back against the wall besides Mike and tilted his head to finally look at him. Mike gave him another smile; soft and maybe a little bit sad around the edges. 

“I know. But, I’ve gotta be honest, Bill. You’ve got some stupid ass ideas of what’s considered a ‘safe spot’ to go sit on your own.” Mike moved carefully, straddled Bill’s lap as he spoke so they were facing each other. The script was left on the edge of the bed; forgotten for the moment as Bill felt his heart skip at their closeness. Felt that sweeping sense in the pit of his stomach that longed for a touch; a breath shared between them. 

“I love you.” Bill let his hands rest on Mike’s hips as they rested their foreheads together. He closed his eyes, just tried to take in the moment and get his mind off all of the shit that still lurked there in the sewers of his memories. 

“I love you too, Big Bill. So, maybe let’s both stop trying to carry the world on our shoulders, huh?” 

Bill felt Mike lean in even closer, parted his lips instinctively without opening his eyes at the brush of a kiss. Bill was so used to being expected to lead, a role he knew he’d put himself in long ago, but with Mike he was able to relinquish that. With Mike, right here and now, Bill could be led by a roll of hips and hands tangled in his hair. Soft but demanding lips, a curious tongue and the feeling of being held close as Mike pressed against him. Both of them doing their best to chase the other’s fears away; to reassure and comfort and remind that themselves they were here together. 

And they got lost together there; skin to skin and ragged breaths. And Bill found that sense he had been longing for all day. That hushed stillness of being home. At some point, once they’d exhausted themselves and had curled up together to doze and ignore the demands of the day, Audra came in from finishing up the day’s work. She climbed into bed with them silently, curled up against Bill’s back so he was sandwiched between them both. 

Mike, a sense of embraced security, and Audra, a soft comfort pressed around him. Tangled up with him as Bill finally figured out how to fix the ending of his story. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry things have been a bit slower on updating the last month or two. Grad school started up again for the semester and its limiting the amount of time I have to work on things but I am still here and slowly plugging away. 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading and any comments are greatly appreciated <3


	7. The Morning Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A skip ahead in time; Ben and Bev have found their place together as they settle in at one of Ben's more isolated properties. 
> 
> Mike, Bill and Audra have now gone to a different country for some of Audra's work. Bill still struggles with his script while Mike contemplates and takes in the benefits and challenges to being part of this new family.

Ben sighed with relief when he pulled up to their house. The sky was already dark and the stars were coming out between the tops of the lumbering trees. The lights inside were on, coming through the large front windows of the entrance and through the smaller upstairs window. He smiled, took a moment to look up to see if he could catch sight of Bev. He’d made the space into a small studio for her. Something at home that she could use however she wanted. A place to retreat to when she needed some quiet of her own. 

He still marveled at it; the fact that she was there with him. That she loved him in a way that didn’t feel possible. There had been a learning curve when she’d first moved in; discovering and figuring out how to share a space together. He wasn’t used to having someone else in the house and she still walked on eggshells when she thought something was wrong. 

He had welcomed her into the space, given her places to call her own and made certain he never gave her a reason to fear. Bev had, in turn, given Ben the comfort of silence no longer empty but familiar and warm. She’d given him more joy than he could comprehend at times, laughter and love and a feeling of finding where he belonged. They danced around each other now, figuratively and literally, the two of them basking in each other’s presence. 

Richie had called them nauseating the last time they’d seen each other. Mike had said he could see the love shining through them. 

Ben startled a little when he heard a soft knock on the driver’s side window and looked to find Bev standing there with a small smirk on her lips. She was wearing a sundress and had a bag of fresh raspberries in one hand from the bushes that lined the west side of the garden. Ben rolled the window down when she motioned for him to. 

“Excuse me, sir, we don’t condone staring up at people’s windows around here.” Bev raised an eyebrow at him and Ben felt a flush of warmth rise up in his cheeks. She reached in through the window to toy with a strand of his hair to push it back off his forehead. “You’re a little late, new kid. How’d the project meeting go?” 

“Well, let’s just say none of them seem to understand that there are structural limits to what they’re wanting. I’m pretty sure they think I can just magic a building into existence at this point. How was your day?” Ben unbuckled as Bev leaned against the door, rested her arm across the windowsill as she gave him a coy little smile. 

“It was alright. Got some designs sketched out. I may have to head into town tomorrow to get the fabrics I need if I want to start trying to put things together. I’m going to buy some canvas too. I think I might try painting something.” 

“I think that’s a great idea. Want me to come with you?” 

“Benji, I always want you to come...with me.” Bev teased him with another smile and Ben laughed with an ease that had been missing for most of his adult life. He leaned a little closer to the door and she reached through the window to cup his jaw in the palm of her hand. She pulled him in for a kiss that was just as teasing as her tone of voice. It must have been a good day; she was relaxed and at ease as she parted her lips for him. He wasn’t ever going to get over the fact that he got to kiss her; he would hopefully get to kiss her every day of their lives if she let him. 

“So, I was thinking pizza for dinner.” She pulled out of the kiss with a deep breath and a flush in her cheeks. Bev gave him a questioning look with a smile that was a little bit of a grimace. “I thought about cooking but decided against it about fifteen minutes ago when I realized how late it was and how little I wanted to actually put the energy into it.” 

“We can get pizza or, if you’re up for it, I could treat you to something in town? Maybe that little Korean place you like?” Ben turned to grab his briefcase from the passenger’s seat before pulling the door handle to pop it open. Bev held onto the windowsill, pulled the door open for him as she thought this over. 

“I would love some Korean barbeque...hmm, deal. And then, when we get home we can have a little bit of that ice cream with these raspberries for dessert.” Ben climbed out of the truck and watched Bev as she closed the door for him. She switched the arm the bag of berries was in so she could sidle up to him; lifted his arm to put it over her shoulders as they started towards the house. “Talked with Eddie for a bit today.” 

“Yeah? How’s Richie and him doing?” 

“Good. Really good now. He’s worried, of course, since Richie’s not out of the dark yet. I think he was hoping after Myra happened that Richie would be in the clear quick too. Now that it’s been almost eight months with nothing, I think he’s getting scared.” Bev’s voice took on a more solemn tone as they stepped up onto the porch and he pulled the door open for her so she could carry the raspberries inside. 

He knew she worried too; about all of the Losers who hadn’t passed whatever this last morbid trial was but also about him. He knew she didn’t like him being home on his own for too long. Had picked up on how she checked in on him frequently when he was in his office working on a design. She wasn’t overbearing but she was present and alert even when she simply walked past the door without a word.

Ben knew that it was supposed to happen in his home office; something that was a luxury compared to the others who would just have to wait and see. He had been able to tell the second she walked into it for the first time and looked around silently with pursed lips and a worried frown on her brow. He was supposed to die at home; die alone with no one even knowing it was happening as his heart gave out. 

Bev was his heart now though and he trusted that she’d keep him going when the time came; just like she’d pulled him from the collapsing earth of the clubhouse with a strength to rival whatever gods there might be in the world. 

“My honest hope is that after we’ve got enough of us through all this that the last few of us won’t even realize we’ve been saved from it. Just having us all here will be enough to prevent it from even coming around.” Ben knew it was wishful thinking that they wouldn’t at least have that moment; the realization that something different and worse would have transpired if they weren’t all there for each other. Still, he’d managed some luck with wishful thinking in the past. 

“Always the optimist.” He could still see those traces of sadness in her smile. He knew for Bev and Richie it was different. They had been the ones to see how all the pieces would fall into place. There were times he’d hear her wake up in the middle of the night either to answer the phone or to call Richie herself. She’d move down to the living room to have whispered conversations that only the two of them could fully understand about the nightmares that shook them awake. There had been a few nights where Ben had wandered down there after their phone call eventually ended and sat down besides her. Let her be the one to curl up against him in the dark with the moonlight coming in through the front windows. 

He understood that the things they had seen had been different yet the same all at once. Richie’s deadlights visions had been like updates to what she had seen when they were young; just as cruel with similar overtones even if the methods weren’t a direct one-to-one translation. It had wanted them to pay and had done its best to ensure it would happen even with it being gone. 

“Go get changed, handsome, while I put these away. I’m hungry.” Bev covered up her sadness quickly as she swatted him gently on the shoulder to get them moving and to change the subject. 

“Yes ma’am.” Ben used his best southern drawl and heard Bev laugh her way into the kitchen as he started up the stairs. 

*

Mike had a hard time believing he wasn’t just dreaming as he leaned against a stone fence that ran near the wide field of swaying grass. They’d landed in Scotland for some on site filming for a separate project that Audra was working on that had started up just a month ago. They’d be here for a few weeks before returning to LA where they’d need to do some reshoots on Bill’s film. For now, Bill was sitting at a small metal table to his right beside him outside the small house they’d rented in the middle of nowhere.

He was working on edits; cursing under his breath as he did. Mike hated how stressed it seemed to make him. He had agreed to change the ending when they’d been doing the initial filming and that inch seemed to have been taken a mile as they requested changes to scenes throughout. Audra would be filming for at least two full weeks by the time they got back if the scenes got approved. None of them were happy with the whole thing but Bill and Audra acted as if that was just the way things went. Mike said a small prayer of thanks that he never had any desire to pursue any sort of acting career. He’d been too busy with more important things even if he had. 

Bill heaved a sigh as he tossed the pages of the overedited script down on the table. Mike looked at him as he squinted out across the field looking frazzled. 

“Come on, let me see.” Mike motioned for him to hand the pages over and Bill raised his eyebrows at him with clear hesitancy. “I might be able to help. Either that or you do what I suggested before and tell them to forget about making changes.” 

“You ever try s-saying that when someone requests a change to the archive?” Bill smiled at him but handed the pages over so that Mike could leaf through them. He shifted to sit down but wanted to still have the view of the field. The countryside spread out around them without much of anything in sight aside from sheep and a few small cottages. In the distance, he could see the hint of a bridge that he’d watched a train move over the other day. 

“Aha ha, cute.” Mike shook his head as he stopped to read through some dialog changes on the page. Bill chuckled and lifted his feet up to rest on Mike’s knee as he closed his eyes to take in the sun on his face. Mike looked up at him and felt a warmth in his chest that had laid dormant for a long time. Sure, he’d met people over the last couple of decades but he’d never let himself really commit to anything or anyone for long. He’d always had that knowledge that It would come back and when that happened he’d already be putting the other Losers on the line; he didn’t need to put anyone else in that sort of danger. 

There was also a part of him that never felt like anyone would be able to get close enough. Even if It never came back, who could he have trusted to let them in and know all those dark details of his childhood? Bill already knew the worst of it and Audra, well, Audra had soaked it in when they’d both broached the subject with her. Explained that there was more in the world than people would think. Shadows darker than ink on paper that crept in the background of the words Bill wrote. But she had started to accept it and, though she might not even fully understand what they experienced, she believed them. 

“Sometimes, I think making the movies isn’t worth it.” Bill spoke quietly, the way he did when something was on his mind that weighed a little too heavily. 

“Why do you do it then? Why not just write the books?” Mike looked back down at the page to see Bill’s scribbled notes in red. Lines crossed out and rewritten and crossed out all over again. The book was about the loss of innocence, about how a man can lose himself to addiction and how the world might be deeper than it seemed. Sure, it had a lot of the same issues that Bill’s past books had had. He had always struggled to find an ending that felt fulfilling and truly complete. There were a lot of things that never truly got closure in life though. 

“Cause it’s another way to tell the s-story, I guess? They get stuck in my head sometimes and this helps get them out.” 

Mike read over a few more changes, looked over Bill’s frustrated notes that were less edits and more a conversation with himself. 

_If I change this; I’ll have to change 5 other scenes._

_The meaning would change entirely if I removed this?_

_I didn’t think the ending was that bad. _

“I suppose I can get that. I’m not a writer and I can’t say that I’ll be able to contribute all that much but if you want to sit down and go over it this evening, I’m more than willing. See how we can’t figure out how to keep the story recognizable while giving enough room to get that director off your back?” 

Mike frowned softly as he saw Bill massage at his temples for a moment; knew his migraines got a bit much for him. He wasn’t entirely certain Bill would agree to the help. He was stubborn as hell but Mike wouldn’t have expected any less of him as an adult. He’d been a stubborn kid too. 

“Yeah, maybe. I don’t know. I’ll figure it out, you know?” Bill bit anxiously at his thumbnail for a second as Mike tried to fight the impulse to suggest he just let it go. 

“You need to go for a walk before we have to pick up Audra?” The second he suggested it, Bill started to nod his head as he stood up. Audra called it his need to wander and Mike had learned it was best just to let him. The first time he’d done it they’d been in a small lake house in Wisconsin on the shores of Lake Michigan. Bill had been restless and worked up over something but the more Audra and him had tried to get Bill to talk about it the less willing he seemed until he’d stormed out into the rainy afternoon. 

_ Sometimes, you’ve just gotta let him go. The more you push the longer he’ll be gone and if you try to figure out where he’ll tell you one thing and then go somewhere else. I don’t get it but he always comes back and seems more at peace afterwards._

“Won’t be long.” Bill muttered the words before he stepped off the porch and out through the stone fence. He started along a trail that cut through the long grass fields towards a fenced area where highland cows sat. Further that way, Mike knew there was a small set of cairns that had fascinated them both a few days back. 

He sighed as he leaned back in his chair and looked down at the paper in his hands. He had hoped that work could be set aside while they were there. Audra would have to do her scenes but she was only really needed on set a few days before she’d be free to spend more time with them. They had plans; small day trips to see old battlefields and a chance to get a boat tour out on Loch Ness. Things Mike had never even dreamed of doing much less getting to do them with two people he loved. 

Because, damn if he wasn’t in love with them both. Even with these times when Bill slipped into this sullen sort of disposition that made him hard to reach or Audra’s sometimes honest to a fault nature. Mike couldn’t think of anywhere he’d rather be than with the two of them. He’d gone from having no one he felt like he could connect with to suddenly having things click into place with an unexpected family of his own. 

He just wished that Bill was less prone to wandering off into situations that felt like the set up to his deadlights death. Mike looked off in the direction Bill had gone and wondered how long he’d be gone for. He picked up the pages of the script once more as he got up from the chair so he could step inside the small cottage to wait. 

*

Ben had gotten a call in the early hours that had sent a small knife of anxiety through his ribs until he realized that it was just one of the contractors on the job. He slipped out of bed quietly in an attempt not to disturb Bev as she slept and stepped down the hall to his office. Someone wanted to change something in the design again which would require another revamp. He’d dealt with clients like this before that couldn’t make up their minds on what they wanted. Some projects would fall through due to that indecision. Ben was torn whether he hoped this would be one or not. He preferred to complete every project but sometimes it was more of a headache than it was worth. 

“Yeah, I’ll take a look at the email. Don’t worry about it for now; I’ll make sure that we get back on track. Yeah, you too.” Ben hung up with the exasperated contractor and sat down at his desk to boot his computer on. 

Birds were starting to tentatively sing outside. Ben wondered if Bev would like to go for an early morning walk. The woods out through the window were blanketed with fog and dew which meant if they wandered down towards the lake they could watch it burn off with the sunrise. He wasn’t certain if he wanted to wake her up though. She’d slept through the night which wasn’t always the case and Ben wanted to make sure she got a good rest. 

Ben logged into his computer and opened but his email to get a chance to skim over whatever they wanted changed now. He had to close his eyes for a moment as he felt a touch of fatigue hit him; maybe it would be better if he got some more rest as well. 

He tried to focus on the computer screen to read over the requests; found himself clenching his jaw as tension ran through it and round the back of his head. It was a slow creeping of sensation but it intensified as he started to wonder if he’d eaten something off the night before. It was when his arms started to feel numb that Ben realized something was wrong. That he was alone in his office, that it was getting harder to breath. He pushed back from the desk to try and stand; to call out for Bev but the world spun around him. 

Ben stumbled and fell, the world seeming to get too far away as a clatter of noise came with him. Items from the desk scattering across the floor as he tried to stay calm. He heard Bev call out his name down the hall, distant and quiet, as Ben tried to just breath. His chest felt like it was in a vice now as he felt acidity rise in the back of his throat like he was about to be sick. 

“Ben! Ben, hey...hey, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” Bev came into view; fiery and scared and beautiful even as the world went out of focus. He was aware of her voice but the words stopped making sense as Ben felt tired. 

He was tired. He needed to get more rest. The lake would have to rest. It didn’t matter. He got to see the sunrise every day in Bev’s smile anyway. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading <3


	8. They all Fall down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bev calls to tell Bill about Ben only to realize that It isn't done for the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A warning just in case: there is the description of a car accident in this chapter as it happens. Nothing graphic though the aftermath follows through most of the chapter.
> 
> I usually rotate my updates but I wrote this one back to back with the last; so have an extra update as a treat!

Mike had worked on pulling something small together for a late lunch when Bill had wandered back, sheepish and with apologies, after about an hour. He had calmed down some with his wandering and they were able to talk a little more level-headed about the changes to the script he was debating on. They worked until they’d gotten the text from Audra that they were going to be wrapping soon so that they could drive to the location and pick her up. 

“I had to run up that damn hill so many times but we should be done with that shot. A lot of the stuff that’s left is going to be taking place on the shore. I can’t wait for you guys to see that place; it’s ridiculous to be honest.” 

They were piled in the rental truck, the three of them sat together across the front bench seat, and the scent of the fast food they’d picked up for dinner filling the cab. Audra talked excitedly in the center, her hair still in curls from the shoot all day but back in more reasonable jeans and sweatshirt from the large period dress costume she’d been in earlier. 

“You’re still set to be free on Friday, right? For our tour on the loch and visit to some of the castle ruins?” Bill was carefully helping Audra remove the pins from her hair as Mike drove. He kept his eyes on the narrow road as they headed into one of the thicker areas of lush greenery surrounding them. They weren’t that different from some of the small roads that ran through sections of Derry and the surrounding land aside from it being harder to see around some of the turns. Stone fences cropped up on the sides from time to time with trees overhanging low. It was beautiful and different yet familiar all the same. 

“Yeah, of course. I told Monty that he could go fuck himself if he tried to add anything to that day. We all need a break. I’m tired of curtsying. Give me one fucking day where I don’t have to look demur, please. Your phone’s ringing, Bill.” 

Audra finally got the pins all free from her hair and shook the curls out with a relieved sigh. Bill reached forward to the dashboard where his phone was ringing but Mike had already clocked Bev’s name on the screen. Audra gave him a smile but saw the look on his face as he glanced between Bill and the road to see what the call was. He hated the uncertainty, hated that each phone call from one of the Losers could elicit a fear response deep inside. He saw the same look on Bill’s face as he answered the phone. 

“Hey Bev, is every t-thing okay?” Bill met his eyes for a moment before looking forward as his frown deepened and turned into concern. Mike wished he could hear what was being said, wished that he knew whether they needed to start mourning a loss or celebrating the relief of another one of them being safe. 

“Mike, look out!” Audra had been gathering the pins in her lap, had clearly been listening to try and tell just what was happening as Bill gave a sound of distress. She’d looked up and Mike had registered the sudden fear on her face as she shouted. He turned to look forward, time seeming to move too slow as he saw the sheep standing in the road. 

He swerved, tried to miss it and he felt the steering wheel jolt in his hands as the tire caught the edge of the road. The world erupted into chaos at that point, the truck tipping and tumbling down the hill he hadn’t even realized was there behind the brush. He reached an arm out to try and keep Bill and Audra both from being jostled forward into the dashboard. 

A couple of things happened at once as the truck hit the ground on the first flip. The airbags suddenly deployed, buffeting them painfully and filling the cab with white powder that clung in the air. The second roll wasn’t given the harsh savior of explosive force and Mike had enough time to register his arm spiraling with pain before his head contacted the driver’s side window and things went dark. 

*

Bev stood out in the cool morning air just outside the hospital doors. Ben was inside somewhere; alive but apparently still critical enough they weren’t giving her much of anything else to go off of. The last couple of hours had been nothing but spiking fear as she found Ben half unconscious on the floor of his office. The ambulance had gotten there too slow in her opinion, had gotten them to the hospital too slow as well. In truth, it had hardly been twenty minutes which, with living just outside the city, meant they’d made incredibly good time. 

She had stepped out now that things seemed to be only a waiting game so that she could call the other Losers. She dialed Bill first; knew that Mike and him were overseas and wanted to catch them before it got too late over there. It would be around dinner time if she was remembering the time zones correctly and she heard the phone ring sounding a bit distant and tinny. 

“Hey Bev, is every t-thing okay?” Bill asked the question the second he picked up the phone and Bev gave a quiet sigh of relief at the sound of his voice. 

“Ben had a heart attack. We’re at the hospital now, I don’t know much yet other than that they’ve got him stable but are running tests.” She could hear her own voice sound steady despite the shaking of her hand that held a still unlit cigarette and the nausea that made her entire center feel like turbulence. It was drawn from that same place that had once smiled to say she was fine or laugh as she told a lie about how clumsy she must have been. The ability to contain it so her voice would ease the wounds for others. 

She heard Bill’s sound of distress over the distance between them. Knew he was likely searching his mind for a way to get them back to the states; back to be there for her as quickly as possible. 

“Have you ca-”

“Mike, look out!” Audra’s voice came frantic and desperate through the phone as Bev stilled in place. It sounded like the end of the world on the other side of the phone. Shouts and yelling and then suddenly the voices were cut off or overwhelmed by the sound of a crash. 

“Bill…?” Bev spoke quietly, a whisper so soft she wasn’t certain she had said it out loud. The line was nothing but dead air for a while and then her phone beeped three times; the sound of the call disconnecting and leaving her alone. 

Bev closed her eyes tightly for a few moments and tried to shake herself out of that shock. Dropped the cigarette she’d planned on smoking, moved to bend down to grab it again only to stop herself as she hit redial on the phone. She stood there, half stooped as she listened closely to the ringing of Bill’s phone. It continued, rang and rang and didn’t end until there was a click of the voicemail picking up and Bill’s voice came through the line sounding entirely too cheerful. 

_Hi, you’ve reached Bill Denbrough. I’m out of the country right now but if you leave a message that sounds important enough, I’ll try to get back to you. If this is Vince, yes, I’m working on the damn script. No, it’s not ready yet. _

There was a beep and Bev stood there in silence until she realized that it was her turn to be talking. 

“Bill...I swear to god if any of you are dead, I’m...God dammit, just call me back. Just tell me that you three are alright…” 

She hung up the phone as she pulled herself back up to stand straight when she saw a paramedic give her a concerned look. Locked herself into that untouchable place as she dialed Richie next. She needed to talk to him; needed to speak with Richie specifically. 

“Marsh, it’s early for you, isn’t it?” By the sound of Richie’s voice, he’d still been asleep despite it being plenty late enough in New York for him to be up. She stood there and watched as a group of nurses filed out of the hospital talking amongst themselves, carrying their things and clearly heading home for the day. “Bevvie?” 

“I need you here Richie. I need you here now. All of you, if you can. Stan and Eddie…I…” 

“Okay, okay, yeah. Next flight we can get on, Eddie and I will be there. Do you need me to call Stan? How about Bill and Mike?” Any fatigue that had been in Richie’s voice was gone as he spoke rapidly. Bev could hear Eddie say something in the background as she leaned back against the building. The tears were starting to well up in her eyes despite her best attempts to hold them at bay. That detached space could only do so much for her in this situation. Could only hold back so much. 

“Please, can you call Stan.” 

“Absolutely, yes, we can call Stan. Bill and Mike to-”

“They won’t answer.” There was a heavy pause on the line and then she heard Richie clear his throat. “I called Bill to tell him and Mike about Ben. Something...something happened while I was on the phone with them. I don’t know...I don’t know if they’re okay. That’s why I need the rest of you here; where I can see you.” 

“Shit...fuck, yeah. They’re still in fucking Scotland, um...fuck.” She could hear Richie unraveling and it weakened her own walls even further. She clung to that dead inside feeling to try so desperately to keep it back and hold it together. “They were together, they’ll be fine. Ben had you; this is going to be alright. We’ll get there. I’ll text you and we’ll get there and then we can figure out how we can get to Bill, Mike and Audra and we’ll be together. Okay? Are you okay?” 

“Are you?” Bev’s voice cracked a little as she responded. She wiped at her eyes quickly, tried to get the tears to go away at least until she could find somewhere more private to dissolve in. 

“Ha…” Richie’s laugh turned into a sob and Eddie’s voice took over. 

“Bev, I’ve already talked to Stan. We’re going to all be there as fast as we can. You keep us posted though, okay? You stay safe and keep us posted.” Eddie’s voice was more controlled but barely. Bev knew he didn’t even realize yet how bad it was; would still be assuming that it was Ben only until Richie told him how the other shoe had dropped. 

“I will. I need to go. See if someone will tell me how he’s doing. I love you both, Eddie.” Bev was using the last of her control to keep the tone of her voice steady. 

“We love you too, Bevvie. We’ll be there soon.” 

Bev nodded and hung up first. She stared at her phone screen for a while; thumb hovering over Bill’s number as she debated trying again. She only had a general area where she was staying and they had clearly not been at the rental when she called. She couldn’t pull out of that numbing haze long enough to even know how to approach contacting the authorities in a different country entirely. 

“Ma’am, are you alright?” Bev blinked and looked up at the kind-faced paramedic she’d caught looking at her earlier. 

“I need to report a car accident.” Her voice barely sounded audible but the paramedic gave a nod of his head. 

“Okay, were you in the accident?” 

“No...my friends. I was on the phone with them and…”

“Alright, do you know where they’re at? Any idea so we can try and get them some help?” The paramedic motioned to one of his partners that was over by their ambulance to get him to come over. 

“Scotland. They’re in Scotland right now near Inverness.” She saw the look of uncertainty on the paramedic’s face but he replaced it quickly enough with a determined nod. 

“Okay, I’m sure we can get a hold of someone. We’ll put in a call to dispatch and see if they are able to find a way to connect us. Let’s get you inside for now so you can sit down, okay?” 

Bev nodded, took a deep breath as she tried to stitch her composure back together piece by piece. She needed to be strong for Ben, for her friends and for herself. She wouldn’t be able to rest until she knew that everyone was alright. 

*

_Bang._

_ Bang._

_ Bang._

Mike was back on his grandfather’s farm; the captive bolt pistol going off in the background in quick succession. 

_ Bang._

_ Bang. _

_ Bang. _

Cold metal pressed against his forehead; the pistol repositioned back against him. Mike tried to open his eyes and found the world was upside down and shattered. The sheep stood at a distance, broken into a hundred pieces like a kaleidoscope, as it watched him impassively. 

_Bang. _

_ Bang. _

_ Bang-crunch._

Mike closed his eyes tightly at the repeated sound and expected the blow at any moment. It didn’t come, it never came, but the next series of shots sparkled and sang like falling sand. 

“One more kick, Auds. I-it’s about t-to go.” Bill’s voice reached him through the rushing wind in his ears and Mike opened his eyes once more. The sheep was still there, upside down and star shattered. Mike turned his head this time and saw Audra first, her wide blue eyes staring back at him with concern and a trickle of blood running from her brow. 

She turned and Mike saw Bill just beyond her. Both of them were also upside down in comparison to him, turned awkwardly as they sat on the roof of the truck with their feet angled at the shattered glass of the windshield. The two of them counted down together from three, braced themselves before they kicked at the windshield once more in fluid synchronicity. 

_Bang._

_ Bang._

_ Bangsrchk. _

The glass gave way with this last kick as it fell forward out of the truck. It didn’t fly up into the air like it should have with the world being upside down; instead it laid itself out on the grass above him. Mike was getting enough sense back to realize that the world wasn’t so much upside down but that the truck was. He was hanging from his seatbelt, sitting as if nothing had happened as it held him tightly in place. 

“Every...one, okay…?” His words came out thick in his mouth as Mike shifted to try and find the seat belt buckle. His left arm complained painfully at the movement and he sucked in a sharp breath. 

“Hey Mike, hey...don’t move too much, okay baby? We’re going to get you out but you shouldn’t move too much.” Audra turned to him at the sound of his pain and cupped his face in her hands. Mike made a quiet noise of understanding as he tried to ease his arm back into the position it had been hanging before. Audra peppered his face with soft kisses before shifted and dipped out of view through the now open windscreen. 

“H-h-hey Mikey.” Bill looked distraught as he shifted over into the space that Audra had been in just a moment before. 

“Hey Big Bill.” Mike winced as there was a squeal of metal and the door beside him shifted and complained. 

“Okay, I’m not going to be able to get it open but we need to get him out. There’s fluid leaking and I don’t know what it is.” Audra reappeared, crawled back into the cab as she spoke. 

“Alright, I-I’m going t-t-to try and brace him so he d-doesn’t drop and then get him out th-th-through the windshield once he’s free. Do you t-think you can get his s-seat belt unhooked?” 

Mike winced as Bill did his best to shift around him so he was awkwardly positioned below him, Mike’s head cradled against his shoulder. Audra reached up to where the seat buckle was, struggled with it to try and get it to unlatch. 

“The button’s stuck. I can’t get it to let go. Do we have anything to cut the belt itself with?” Audra gave a frustrated sigh as she pulled a couple more times to try and get him free. The sheep wandered away outside, disappeared behind some shrubbery and rocks as Mike felt a small wave of nausea. 

“D-don’t have a knife.” Mike closed his eyes for a few moments as Bill spoke. Tried to get that feeling to tap back down but with gravity pulling at everything and his head spinning and throbbing it was difficult to push it back. 

“Here, can I have your jacket? I think if I use this, I might be able to get it but I’ll need to make sure I’m not fucking up my hand.” 

Mike listened to them go back and forth as they worked out how to get him free. He knew if he’d been on his own that he’d just hang there. He wondered if they weren’t visible from the road or if it was just used rarely enough that no one would even pass by. If he was on his own, how long would he have hung here in his seat with a broken arm and a concussion while being unable to get himself freed?

“It’s work. Are you ready?” There was a sawing sound in his ears, not loud but noticeable as he felt pressure from the belt across his chest. It vibrated with those sounds, Audra working to cut it apart with whatever she’d grabbed, and Mike tried to prepare himself for the drop. 

“Y-yeah. I’ve got him. I’ve got you Mikey.” Bill spoke close to his ear on the opposite side of him from Audra. Mike felt his arms brace carefully around him, carefully supporting his torso as the sawing continued. He opened his eyes to try and see how much further there was to go when he suddenly dropped. 

He didn’t hit the roof of the truck, Bill managed to support him enough for that, but both of them were a little winded as the belt gave way and Mike had suddenly met gravity. Bill shifted, held on to him as he scooted them across the ground to pull him out of the truck through the windshield. He could hear the grind of the glass underneath them, tried to say something about Bill being careful not to get cut up by it. Audra helped straighten his legs out, helped to get him completely out of the truck and a few feet away in the grass where Mike was greeted with the blue sky that was starting to show the first hints of evening setting in. 

“How are you feeling, Mike?” The sky was filled with angels as Audra and Bill both looked down at him. 

“Like shit. Pretty sure my arm’s broken.” Mike squinted against the sun to get a good look at them both. Audra had the gash on her forehead and a bruise on her collarbone where her seat belt must have snapped tight. Bill’s lip was split and there were some small pieces of shattered glass that looked like it had managed to embed itself along his jawline that still managed to catch the sunlight like glitter. 

Bill nodded his head a little at this as he glanced up across from them towards what Mike felt must have been the road. Audra sat close to them both, a hand on Bill’s shoulder while another rested on Mike’s chest. He lifted the arm that felt it was actually functional and took a hold of her hand with his to give it a light squeeze. 

“G-getting up that hill i-is going to be a s-son of a bitch.” Bill shook his head and then seemed to regret it as he squinted. 

“My phone was on the dash; I’m pretty sure it’s a lost cause. Do you have yours, Bill?” Audra gave an exhausted sounding sigh; not quite relief but like a small sense of urgency was being released. 

“I’m pretty s-sure it went out the window in the crash. M-Mikey, do you have yours?” 

Did he have his? He shifted to reach for his back pocket without thinking and immediately had to clench his teeth from giving a pain curse as his broken arm sent spikes up along his nerve endings. Bill and Audra both were immediately leaning over him again; tried to soothe him and remind him not to move. 

“I’ll see if I can get it out of his pocket.” Audra’s voice had dipped low; whispered like she thought talking too loudly would cause him more pain. Both of them carefully felt around his waist as Mike finally felt that haze of sharp bones grinding under skin subside a little once more. 

“I-It’s not t-there. It m-must be in the truck?” 

“I can go get it-”

“No.” Bill and Mike both spoke as Audra moved to stand back up. None of them were going to be getting close to that truck again; not with it leaking fluid and the sense of unease that this opportunity for It to strike from beyond the grave wasn’t passed yet. Audra looked between the two of them for a few seconds and seemed to realize what the fear was. 

“Let’s get a little further away from it then. One of us is going to have to get back up to the road to try and get someone’s attention for help if we can’t call for it. I think I’m banged up a little less than you two so I’ll give it a try first. Maybe walk down a little way to see if the slope gets easier.” 

Audra and Bill did their best to help him further away to where he was sitting under a tree. Sitting up he could see that there was a lot more than one sheep staring at them with unfazed expressions. He wondered how far from home they were allowed to roam. Would anyone eventually come out this way to herd them back to find the car? 

It didn’t escape him that, if he’d been alone, he likely wouldn’t have been able to get himself out of the truck. Even if he did, Mike wasn’t certain if he’d be able to walk himself somewhere with the way the world spun each time he moved and his nerves spiked with needling pain. He definitely wouldn’t have been able to climb an embankment. 

Once they had him settled, Bill sat down next to him to lean back against the tree. Mike waited as Audra moved to try and way up the hill until the two of them were on their own. Bill had closed his eyes; tongue moving gingerly over his split bottom lip as he seemed to try to gauge how bad it was.

“It was Bev on the phone?” 

“Yeah...B-Ben had a heart attack. S-she was at the hospital with h-him.” Bill turned to look at him; eyes filled with fear and worry as they sat for a long moment just making eye contact. Maybe it had been a little foolish to think each of them would happen one at a time. Either way, they were stuck across the world hoping to find a way to get help while Bev was back home waiting to see if Ben managed to cling to life. 

It wasn’t fair. Not that It had ever played fair. 

“Did she say if he was okay before…?” Mike nodded towards the truck that was giving a rhythmic tick as the engine cooled. At least that’s what Mike hoped it was, something innocent and unlikely to spread into flames. 

_ The sound of a bolt gun. The heat of a fire. Stuck with no clear way out._

If the truck did burst to life, It would have checked off all the right boxes. 

“S-stable but s-she didn’t know anything else.” Bill had that look to him; that look which meant he felt this was somehow his responsibility. Mike carefully shifted, tipped more than really moved so that he leaned against him and let his head rest on Bill’s shoulder. 

“We’ll get through this, Big Bill. We’ve still all got each other, right?” 

“Y-yeah…” Bill didn’t sound completely convinced but his arm went carefully around Mike’s shoulders. 

“Hey guys! I hear sirens! I think help’s coming.” Audra called down to them where she had stopped to look up towards the road. “It’s not too bad here, I’m going to try and get up to wave them down.” 

“P-please, be car-careful.” Bill called back to her and she gave some sort of affirmative that Mike didn’t entirely hear. His head felt a bit heavy but the steady rise and fall of Bill breathing gave him something to focus on so that the world didn’t spin quite so bad. He didn’t know how there would be help on its way already when no one else seemed to be around to have called for it. The only other person that would have any idea that something had happened would have been Bev. 

“Wouldn’t it be fitting if, even across the globe, Beverly Marsh saved our asses.” Mike mumbled quietly and he heard the first hint of humor in Bill’s voice as he gave a soft laugh of agreement. 

*

“Hey, I brought you some coffee.” Bev stirred where she was curled up on a chair next to Ben’s bed. When she opened her eyes, she found Patty giving her a kind smile as she offered a cup from the downstairs cafeteria. Stan was waking up Richie and Eddie where they had crashed in the corner, jetlagged and exhausted from a long day of stressful travel. They had all managed to get there late; Stan and Patty first but only by about an hour. 

“Thank you, Patty.” Bev shifted, stretched out some from the position she’d fallen asleep in and felt her back and legs complain. She took the offered coffee, held it in both hands and took a blessed sip. 

She had been allowed in to see Ben after a few hours the day before. They were still monitoring him and would be keeping him here for, at least, a few more days. When the others had arrived, they had tried to bar them from coming in to see him despite her requests they be allowed to do so as their family. 

Richie and Eddie were probably lucky they hadn’t been kicked out of the hospital. Stan and Patty had been the ones to eventually convince the staff to let them sit with him. Ben had woken up a few times but had mostly slept. When he’d woken to find them all there, he had lit up like nothing had ever happened and told them they shouldn’t have all come. That had earned him more than a few gentle reprimands and ‘fuck off’s’ from the others. 

Now they were just waiting to hear about Mike, Bill and Audra. She had been told that they’d reached the emergency services near Inverness and that they had managed to find where the last hit from Bill’s phone was on a cellphone tower. Bev had a hard time getting the sounds of the crash out of her head; the noise of it from over the phone and the silence that had followed. 

“The cafeteria food honestly looked less than appetizing so we were thinking a few of us could go grab something to eat? Bring it back for everyone.” Stan kicked at Richie’s shoe lightly when he tried to trip him up; flipped him off as Richie gave him an impish grin. Bev watched them, still felt a bit like this was a dreamscape and that the worst things she could have feared had happened. 

“I’ll go. I need out of here for a bit.” Eddie spoke up, looked a bit stricken as he leaned against Richie’s side and sipped at the coffee Stan had handed him. It had been clear he wasn’t exactly comfortable being here. She hadn’t gotten to talk to him alone yet but it was clear from the way he clung to Richie’s side and couldn’t quite look at Ben directly that this struck along the chords of his own fears. 

“I can stay with Bev.” Richie volunteered himself and they made eye contact for a moment. There was a need for them to talk; a need for them to go over the details of everything once more now that so much had happened. 

“Eddie, Patty and I can go. That way we have enough hands. While we’re out where there’s better service we’ll see if we can get a hold of the others too. I think I have the number for the place they were staying. I’ll give it a try if they don’t answer their cellphones.” Stan gave her a smile; sad and infinitely knowing in the way that only Stan had about him. She still wondered sometimes; felt that there was something older in his soul some days. That expression shifted into a disgusted roll of his eyes as he looked back towards Richie and Eddie to find them kissing. 

“Be careful, keep your phone on. Let us know if anything happens.” Eddie mumbled the words to Richie between each quick peck and Bev bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing. The two of them were ridiculous but they were also sweet. Still acted like it was their first month together even now that they’d settled into a new life together. 

“Can you two wait until you get a room, at least?” 

“Forgive us, we didn’t just disappear for coffee for the last half hour, Staniel.” Richie gave a flash of a teasing grin as he flipped Stan off. Patty’s cheeks turned a soft pink even as she laughed and gave him a wink in return. 

“Do you want anything specific, Bev?” Patty focused her attention on her and Bev just shook her head. She wasn’t sure she could eat right then but would take whatever they managed to bring back. Eddie finally scrambled up from the floor; immediately reached for the hand sanitizer as he moved to join them while ignoring Richie’s soft pout. The three of them left, soft bickering rising between Eddie and Stan as they went as Patty followed looking amused. 

Richie got up from the floor and pulled the only other chair over beside her to sit on backwards so he could lean forward against the back cushion. His legs hung ridiculously over the arm rests and it looked incredibly uncomfortable but he didn’t shift to move. 

“Thank you for coming so fast.” Bev spoke first, didn’t quite broach the subject that was tethered between them like a live wire. “If I hadn’t woken up and gone to check on him…hadn’t heard him fall…”

“You did though. You were there when you needed to be, Bevvie. And hopefully, we’ll hear back that with Mike and Bill together they were able to pull out of whatever happened.” Any humor that had been in Richie’s voice while the others had been present was gone now. He sounded small and uncertain; the way that Bev felt. 

“I didn’t think it would happen at the same time. Do you think It did that intentionally?” Richie frowned, closed his eyes tightly for a moment like he did when he was trying to hide his emotions. It only made them that much easier to read. 

“I don’t think _It_ can do anything intentionally anymore. Do I think It set up the circumstances so things would fall into place? Sure. But It’s fucking dead.” 

“I know that, Tozier, that’s not what I meant. I just...you weren’t on the fucking phone with them. You didn’t walk into his study to find him lying on the floor.” Bev felt a small sliver of anger snap as she spoke; motioned towards Ben who was sleeping with the steady beat of the monitor in the background. She wasn’t mad at Richie, she had no reason to be, but this all just felt too out of their control. Being together, having each other, was supposed to stop the visions from happening. 

They had stopped Eddie from drinking the dosed tea. They had stopped Tom from even getting a chance to take another swing at her. Stan had woken up from his coma instead of continuing to lie there waiting for them to actively do _something_ to make him wake up. 

Ben had still had a heart attack though. Had still, technically, died for a couple of minutes according to what the doctors had eventually told her. They hadn’t really stopped it at all. She hadn’t stopped it from happening and then to hear the crash on the other end of the phone. 

She hoped Mike and Bill would be enough to have kept them both safe. Audra too; that she wouldn’t have fallen casualty to their demons. 

Bev saw something in the expression on Richie’s face, in his silence as he stared down at the floor like he’d been chastised. He wasn’t the one she was angry at and didn’t deserve her taking it out on him. She was mad at It; that It could still affect them even now. She was mad at herself for not knowing if she’d done everything she could have to prevent all of this. 

“I’m sorry.” Bev spoke quietly and Richie glanced up at her to give her a sad smile that she could have missed if she’d blinked at the wrong time. She reached a hand out to him and he took it; physically connecting that link that always ran between them. 

“You don’t have to be sorry. I’m an asshole; I just need to know it’s going to be enough.” Richie used his free hand to push his glasses up into his hair so he could pinch the bridge of his nose. “But look, Ben’s going to be okay. It was supposed to happen _in _his office and, yeah, it did but you got him out of there. You got him here and they’re taking care of him. And Mike...Bill’s with him. If anyone’s going to be able to get Mike out of a busted-up truck it’s going to be...well, it will be Audra but she’s only there because Bill is so, you know, by proxy.”

Bev gave a snort of unexpected laughter as she gave Richie a look. He laughed too though she could see the tears in his eyes. If she hadn’t already used up all her tears, hadn’t already cried herself to the point of exhaustion, she would have been right there with him. Instead, her eyes were dry and tired as they complained at the flow of emotions. 

“I’m going to tell him you said that.” Bev gave Richie a gentle shove that he used to pull her in a little closer. He tucked her under one of his arms, made her lean awkwardly across the space between their chairs to do so and hugged her close. “It will be alright.” 

“Yeah, yeah it will. Whatever happens, I guess we know there’s only two of us left to worry about.” 

“You two are really bringing down the room.” Ben’s words were a bit mumbled but they were clear enough. She felt the smile blossom on her face as she saw he’d woken up again. He looked a bit more alert this time, more himself if still exhausted, and she pulled away from Richie to stand up next to the bed. 

“Hey, how are you feeling? Do you need anything?” Bev caught Ben’s hand between hers and held on gently. Studied his face for any sign that he wasn’t okay. 

“No, I’m good. Seeing your face is enough.” Ben gave her a smile that drew Bev down to him. She kissed him, gentle and light as she took care not to pull or put pressure on anything. She felt like he was delicate just then; something that had been repaired but still needed to be handled gently until the glue dried. He gave her another slightly dopey looking smile when she pulled away and it soothed her. “You too, Trashmouth.” 

“Ha, yeah, I’m sure waking up to see my face wasn’t at all like a nightmare, Haystack. I don’t know how Eddie does it every morning.” Richie joked as he kept his head down. He had slipped his glasses off to wipe them uselessly on his shirt; Bev knew he was likely trying to hide his tears. 

“Aw, I think he does it easy enough. Way I’ve seen him look at you.” 

“You’re a sap.” 

“You’re the one crying.” Ben called Richie on it and got a finger lifted in his direction as a response. Bev pulled away from the bed, gave Ben a quick wink as she moved over to Richie and hugged him from behind so her arms draped over his shoulders and her chin rested on top of his head. Close so she could try to comfort; not just him but both of them. Ben too; she could see the question in his eyes. They had explained to him about the phone call and how they hadn’t heard from Mike and Bill the last time he’d been awake. 

“Shit...I think my phone’s ringing.” Richie fumbled for his pockets for a moment as what sounded like the ‘Almond Joy’ jingle played before he managed to pull his cell phone free to answer it. “Hello?”

Bev found herself holding her breath as Richie answered the call. There was an irrational fear that somehow this would lead to another disaster. She held onto Ben’s hand tightly, realizing she was likely squeezing a bit too hard when he gave her a soft tug so he could lift her hand to his lips. He pressed a kiss to the back of it and tried to give her a reassuring smile despite how worn out he looked. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Bill, it’s good to hear your voice. How are Mike and Audra?” Richie looked up at them, gave them both a thumbs up even as tears were clearly forming in his eyes again. “Thank god, I mean, yeah that sucks but a broken arm and some cuts and bruises is...fucking ideal considering.” 

Bev felt something like relief. It didn’t quite feel right; the fear was still dark and twisting in her chest as she only half listened to Richie continuing the conversation on the phone. Made mention that Bill had talked with Stan and the others already but had wanted to call and reassure the three of them himself that everyone was fine. 

They had managed to win again. Managed to avoid losing one of them to the deadlights. It had been closer this time though; terrifyingly so. Bill and Richie were the only two left now and she could feel that cold sliver of fear like a knife between her ribs. 

Fear that they’d be testing the limits of just how close that knife could cut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and comments are always appreciated <3<3<3


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